Hearts and Minds
by R-I-C-A-R-D
Summary: A loosely connected series of scenes exploring the relationships between Commander Shepard and her Cerberus 'allies' from varying perspectives.
1. New Beginnings

**New Beginnings**

_Never will I see the sun again  
__Never will I see the sun again  
__Where were you Monday?  
Where were you Monday?  
I was not missing, I was dead_

Birds of Tokyo, _An Ode To Death_

Ever since she had regained consciousness to the backing track of gunfire, screams and explosions, Shepard had been reacting from one stimuli to the next. A hacked security mech levelled a weapon at her, and she'd reacted by riddling its metallic body with pistol shots. In a way, it had been a good thing - stopping to actually _think_ about things would have gotten her killed. Again.

Following the departure from the Lazarus facility and her face to hologram meeting with the Illusive Man, Shepard had found herself on the ground at the isolated human colony of Freedom's Progress. Isolated and seemingly abandoned. Except for more hacked mechs. That hadn't worried Shepard much - as long as she kept reacting to outside stimuli, she wouldn't have to think about things. Not thinking made things easier, simpler. _Sooner or later you'll have to face up to what happened and deal with it_ a matter of fact voice told her from inside her own head.

"Yes, I suppose I'll have to," she had said aloud, drawing looks from Lawson and Taylor. Shepard ignored them, focusing instead on locating the quarian named Veetor. That had been a hell of a thing - her old friend Tali'Zorah showing up here of all places. Williams might have said it was all part of God's plan, which made Shepard wonder where the Reapers fit into this plan. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut and gave the Cerberus operatives their orders. Afterwards, Shepard couldn't remember exactly what those orders had been. Decided it didn't matter.

Outside stimulus

Reaction

Outside stimulus

Reaction

Then, another face to hologram with the Illusive Man.

"Shepard," he began, drawing on a thin cigarette. The cigarette flared as he pulled the smoke into his lungs, the light briefly illuminating the lower half of his face. "Good work on Freedom's Progress."

"Those things will kill you, you know," Shepard said matter of factly, arms crossed over her chest.

The head of Cerberus regarded Shepard for a moment, eyes cold and somehow lifeless. He carried on speaking as though she hadn't said anything. "Our methods differ but I can't argue with the results," he stated, referring to Shepard's decision to allow Veetor to return to the quarian Flotilla with Tali.

"You should try making nice with people," the former Spectre answered, "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

The Illusive Man removed the cigarette from his lips, tapped it into an ashtray. "Perhaps. But it's difficult to be diplomatic when people already view you as a threat."

Shepard smiled humourlessly. "And whose fault is that?"

The head of Cerberus stared into and through the hologram of Shepard. "Our ultimate goal is the preservation of humanity. No matter the cost. We have never backed away from that, Shepard."

The holographic image of Shepard waved this explanation away as though shooing flies. The Illusive Man sipped from a glass of liquor. "I don't expect you to agree with our methods, Commander. I do expect you to work with us to end the threat posed by the Collectors. I'm sure that even you can see that they are a far greater threat than Cerberus."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Shepard asked, arching an eyebrow. "Fine. You give me intel and goals to accomplish...but I accomplish them _my_ way."

The Illusive Man nodded, exhaled smoke. The glowing ember at the end of the cigarette danced like a firefly. "I'll forward to you a number of dossiers. You'll need a crew of specialists to help you against the Collectors. Get to work recruiting them. In the meantime I'll continue to monitor our colonies. We may be able to stop the Collectors from abducting any more colonists."

Shepard nodded, "Anything else?" she asked of the Cerberus head.

"Two things," he stated. "First, travel to Omega and locate Dr Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian geneticist and he may be able to find a way to counter the seeker swarms." The Illusive Man paused, bringing the cigarette to his lips again.

"And?" Shepard prodded.

"I've found a pilot for you, one of the best," The Illusive Man smiled and there was something predatory about it. The holographic image flickered and died as he cut the connection; Shepard found herself looking at a bare wall. She turned at the sound of somebody walking towards her and her eyes widened with shock. A smile of genuine happiness spread across her scarred face.

"Surprise," Joker said as he limped towards her.

Still smiling, Shepard answered, "My God. If I weren't so worried about breaking your spine I'd hug you."

The former Alliance helmsman stepped closer to Shepard, "I think I can take a hug, Commander. Just one, though. I'd hate for you to come over all mushy." Tentatively Shepard wrapped her arms around Joker and briefly rested her cheek on his shoulder. After a few seconds the two pulled away from each other.

Joker fell into step beside Shepard and led her deeper into the Cerberus installation.

"I still can't believe it's you," Shepard said.

Joker laughed, "Are you kidding? I saw you get spaced!"

"So you're with Cerberus now?" Shepard asked, stating the obvious but somehow unable to believe it.

"After you left, everything changed. The crew was broken up, the Alliance tried to cover up what had happened and I was grounded." Joker turned to face Shepard, and there was an intensity in his eyes that she had never seen before, "They took away the one thing that meant anything to me. Hell yeah, I joined Cerberus."

Joker and Shepard stopped at a long observation window that gave a view of a docking platform outside the station. "There's something else, as well," Joker went on, not bothering to hide the smile on his face, "They only told me about it last night."

One by one, floodlights lit up, illuminating the vessel docked outside. Shepard gasped as she took in the familiar profile of the frigate, felt the skin on her forearms form into goosebumps. Though the craft looked to be at least twice the size of the original, there was no doubting what it was. What _she_ was.

"It's good to be home, huh, Commander?" Joker said.

---

The interior of the SR2 _Normandy _was as large as the outer hull suggested. Everything felt 'roomier' - there would be no more near-collisions as crew passed by each other during the course of their duties. Or so Shepard hoped. She walked behind Lawson and Taylor in kind of daze, only vaguely aware of what Lawson was saying as the Cerberus operative led the trio through the airlock and into the CIC. A smile seemed to have permanently welded itself to the Commander's face and she finally felt truly _alive_ for the first time since waking up.

The Cerberus crewmen seated at their stations straightened their backs perceptibly as Shepard passed by, as though eager to impress their new boss. As Lawson droned on about locating Mordin Solus, Shepard's gaze roamed the combat deck, her eyes alight with unalloyed joy.

As Commander Shepard spoke with Operatives Lawson and Taylor at the far end of the CIC, Yeoman Kelly Chambers studied the interplay between the man and two women. An avid people watcher, Kelly was adept at reading others, and knew when they were under too much pressure, knew when to offer support and be there for them. Perhaps more importantly, she knew when to back off and give people the space they needed to work on problems in their own time.

For the moment at least, things appeared to be civil between the former Alliance officer and the two Cerberus operatives. Kelly saw no potential for any kind of personality clash between Operative Taylor and Commander Shepard - though loyal to Cerberus, Jacob was first and foremost a soldier and Kelly did not believe he would attempt to override Shepard's authority. Operative Lawson on the other hand...Miranda was a fiercely independent and strong-willed woman. As was Shepard. Kelly suspected that the two women would either become grudging allies if not outright friends or would grow to resent one another's presence.

Though, if the Commander wanted to make a point of establishing her authority over Miranda, Kelly felt that now would be the best time, in front of the crew. So far, at least, Shepard was making no such attempt.

As Shepard nodded in agreement with whatever Miranda was telling her - Kelly was too far away to hear clearly - a rather pleasant-looking smile played constantly across the Commander's face. Kelly's view of the smile was momentarily obscured as Shepard ran a hand over the side of her face, fingertips lingering briefly over the facial scars. _I wonder if they bother her?_

Kelly returned her attention to the transcript displayed on the monitor before her. The transcript had been obtained by Cerberus and detailed a counselling session between then-Second Lieutenant Shepard and an Alliance-approved psychologist, Andrew Baker.

_Andrew Baker: How are you feeling today, Lieutenant?_

_2nd Lt Shepard: I put one foot in front of the other. These days, that's the only way I know how to get through things...that's how I made it back to the LZ at Akuze anyhow. One foot in front of the other._

Kelly wondered how Shepard had dealt with it - bearing witness to the death of every Marine under her command. However she had accomplished it, it had worked and Kelly felt a deep admiration for the Commander almost bordering on awe. As the discussion among Shepard and the Cerberus operatives concluded, Kelly closed the file. The Commander took her leave of Jacob and Miranda and headed in Kelly's direction

Kelly's mouth suddenly went dry and she felt her pulse quicken. She was about to meet the woman who had not only stopped Saren but had prevented the wholesale slaughter of all life in the galaxy. This close, Kelly's new CO seemed taller and fine lines were visible around the corners of her mouth. Laugh lines. The Cerberus-compiled profile pointed to a somewhat dark sense of humour. Kelly hoped she could make the Commander laugh. Kelly stood at attention and snapped off a parade ground salute. "Welcome aboard the _Normandy_, Commander. I'm your Yeoman, Kelly Chambers."

Shepard returned the salute. "Nice to meet you, Ms Chambers."

"Please, call me Kelly."

Shepard shrugged slightly as though telling herself _What the hell_. "Okay, Kelly." Kelly felt the warm glow of happiness spread throughout her. "So," Shepard said, "What do they have you doing?"

All business now, Kelly outlined her duties, "I keep you informed of any new messages on your private terminal and manage your appointments."

The Commander tilted her head to one side, fingers of her right hand again brushing over the scarring. "Seems like the kind of thing a VI could handle," Shepard paused and smiled again, "Not that I don't appreciate dealing with an actual person...those VIs irritate the hell out of me sometimes."

Kelly nodded, "That is only my official role. Unofficially I keep an eye on the crew, I listen. I have a degree in psychology and can tell when a person is overly taxed, it works best in an informal setting." Shepard's face seemed to close and Kelly immediately regretted mentioning the psychology. Could be those counselling sessions left the Commander with a dim view of such things.

Shepard sighed, "Look, Kelly. You seem very nice but I've had my share of counselling. That being said, I _do_ think having a trained counsellor on the crew will be helpful when things start going to hell." Kelly held her ground as the Commander leaned in towards her, close enough that Kelly could see the individual pores in Shepard's skin. Kelly also noticed that the scars appeared to possess an orange glow. Shepard went on, her voice low, "And things _will _go to hell. Better the crew talk to you than try to self-medicate with drugs from the medbay." Shepard pulled away.

Kelly swallowed. Whether she knew it or not, Shepard possessed an almost palpable aura, something that made people follow her because they wanted to, not because they were ordered to. Shepard clasped her hands behind her back, "How do you feel to be assigned to the _Normandy_?"

"Nervous, exhilarated," Kelly paused before confessing, "Terrified."

Shepard nodded, "Good," she said flatly. "I'd have doubts about your sanity if you _weren't_ scared."

Kelly nodded. "I trust you implicitly, Commander. I feel as though I could fall and you'd be there to catch me." Kelly saw the look that passed across Shepard's face, a look that seemed to say, _What did she just say?_

Shepard rocked back on her heels. "I know I've been out of the world for the last couple of years but are you flirting with me, Chambers?"

Kelly's gaze cut to the left as she replied, "I'm sorry if I was too forward just then."

"It's just that I'm not used to people doing that five minutes after I meet for the first time," Shepard clarified.

Kelly smiled, green eyes seeming to twinkle. "It's actually closer to three minutes, Commander."

Shepard laughed. "A member of Cerberus who _hasn't_ had a sense of humour bypass. Ah, Chambers...I'm starting to like you already. I'm off to take a tour of the ship."

Kelly nodded as the Commander made for the armory. Even as she left, Shepard was still chuckling to herself, "Three minutes," she said, smiling.


	2. War Stories

**War Stories**

"....so then the krogan says, _Damn it, tell me what I want or I'll turn your virtual ass into actual dust!"_

Yeoman Kelly Chambers smiled as the Commander regaled her obviously awestruck audience with war stories from two years ago. The former Spectre and several Cerberus crew sat around the large table in the _Normandy's_ mess. Kelly herself hovered at the periphery of the gathering, preferring for the moment to observe the interactions between Shepard and the Cerberus personnel rather than participate in them.

Kelly had a feeling that there would be plenty of time for interactions of one sort or another as the crew settled into their new postings. As far as Kelly was concerned, Shepard was a breath of fresh air. Though she loved her role within Cerberus, the organisation itself and the people she worked with, there were times when Kelly felt they took everything too seriously.

Though the Commander had experienced some terrible things during her service to the Alliance, her psychological profile was surprisingly well-balanced. The psych profile on Shepard compiled by Cerberus noted a tendency towards black humour and sarcasm as a coping mechanism. At times, Shepard reminded Kelly of a female version of Joker. Even Shepard's return from the dead seemed to have had a minimal impact on her outlook on life.

Crewman Hadley roared with laughter, slapping a hand on the table and rattling coffee cups. Shepard nodded, "I know. I had to bite down on the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing....then the damn VI blew our cover." Shepard took a breath and, when she spoke again, her voice approximated that of the VI on Feros, "_If there is nothing else, please step aside. A queue is forming behind you for the use of this terminal."_

Hadley laughed harder, head tipped back, "A queue!" he shouted.

Shepard nodded again, "I _know!_" She sighed and seemed to lose some of her spark, "Kaidan almost put the krogan through the wall with his biotics. Ash and I pumped about three dozen rounds into it before it got back up."

Kelly took a step closer to the group, suddenly intrigued. _She refers to her old crew by their first names. They must have been very special to her._ Kelly wondered how Shepard did it, inspire her people to greatness the way she did. And so effortlessly as well. That seemed to be the major difference between Shepard and Operative Lawson, Kelly felt. While Kelly deeply admired Lawson's commitment to Cerberus and the efficiency with which she performed her duties and ran operations, she felt that Lawson lacked that almost instinctive ability to connect with people and empathise with them.

Shepard suddenly looked up as though aware of Kelly's gaze upon her. The Yeoman backed up a half-step. Kelly's gaze met Shepard's for the briefest of moments before looking away. _Her eyes,_ Kelly marvelled,_ So intense_.

"Kelly," Shepard began, "Why don't you join us?" Shepard tilted her head towards the vacant seat beside her, noted the glow that suddenly suffused Chambers' features. _I invite her to sit next to me, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. She's easily impressed,_ Shepard thought, suppressing a smile. Before the Yeoman could move, Joker's voice cut through the muted conversations occurring throughout the crew deck.

"Commander, we're about to dock at Omega, ETA fifteen minutes."

Shepard's relaxed posture straightened as she mentally clocked on. The Commander left the mess table, hand going to her comm as she went. "Copy, Joker. I'll round up Taylor and Lawson." Shepard paused on her way to Miranda's office to farewell the crew. "I'll check in with you all when we get back." As the crewmen nodded and dispersed from the area, Shepard again briefly met Kelly's gaze with her own. "We'll talk another time, Kelly."

Kelly nodded as Shepard resumed her walk to Lawson's office. "I'd like that, Commander." _I'd like that a lot._


	3. Fallen Angel

**Author's Note: **In Mass Effect 2, we see Garrus almost blown up by the gunship and in the next scene, he's back on his feet. Obviously, things happened in between. This is my take on things.

**Fallen Angel**

With the _Normandy_ currently docked at Omega, there was little for Joker to do other than monitor the frigate's systems. The AI had offered to perform these duties on his behalf and had suggested that Joker depart the bridge for a break. Leave the ship alone with that...thing? Like _that_ was going to happen.

Part of Joker knew he was being paranoid regarding EDI. Paranoid...that was what Alenko had said to him about the presence of that turian Spectre on the old _Normandy_. And look how _that _had turned out. No, until Shepard point-blank ordered him off the bridge, Mister Moreau would stay, thank you very much.

"Mister Moreau, I must inform you that it is standard operating protocol to take periodic rest breaks in order to prevent potential deep vein thrombosis," EDI once again prodded.

"You're kidding, right? You're worried that if I sit here for too long my leg veins are going to clot up and kill me?" Joker rolled his eyes. "I notice you never tell Miranda to take periodic rest breaks."

The AI made no response to this. Joker smirked. Score one for the organic. Joker turned his flight seat, his _leather _flight seat around as footfalls headed towards him from the CIC. It was that cute redhead, Chambers.

"I was on my way to the mess and thought I'd come up here to see if you needed anything," the Yeoman said. "You've been up here a while," she noted.

Joker sighed, "Not you too. I already have EDI telling me what to do." Joker turned his head to face the holographic blue orb that represented the _Normandy's_ AI. "Thanks, _mom."_

"Well, if you're sure..." Chambers trailed off and turned to leave.

Joker called her back. "Wait...I _could_ use a coffee. I mean, if you're getting one anyway."

"The consumption of food and beverages at crew work stations is in violation of Cerberus-" EDI began.

"Shut. Up!" Joker snapped, stabbing a hand at the mute. Chambers smiled slightly. It would be interesting to get those two together for some group therapy, she thought.

To Joker she said, "How do you have your coffee, Joker?"

"Black. Two sugars. Thanks." Chambers smiled and nodded.

As the Yeoman left the bridge, EDI observed, "She is quite a considerate person."

"Why won't you stop talking?" Joker groaned.

Joker turned back to his displays, ran another diagnostic pattern and frowned slightly. "I'm seeing a power imbalance in the number four thruster," he observed and opened a commline to Engineering.

"Engineering, this is Daniels," came the reply.

"There's a slight fluctuation in the number four engine," Joker reported.

"Thanks for the head's up, Joker," the engineer replied. "I'll be damn glad when the Commander finds us those FBA couplings. Out."

Joker closed the connection and eyed the displays as the energy fluctuation smoothed out. "All systems operating at optimum capacity," EDI reported.

Shortly after, Chambers returned, a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. "Here you are, Joker," she said, offering the mug in her right hand to the helmsman. Joker accepted the mug with a nod of thanks, took a careful sip, and fought an urge to spit it back into the mug.

Chambers nodded, "I know. Commander Shepard offered to pick up some new supplies from the Citadel as soon as she finishes her work on Omega."

"Well, I hope she hurries up before Gardner poisons us all." Joker shook his head. "I actually miss the food dispenser on the old _Normandy_."

As though speaking of the formerly dead former Spectre had summoned her, Shepard's voice came over the comm. "Shore party to _Normandy_, come in Joker."

Even before Joker could reply, he knew something had gone wrong with the mission. It was there in her voice. Shepard sounded calm enough but Joker could hear the undercurrents in her tone. From the way Chambers suddenly tensed up at his side, she heard it as well.

"Go ahead, Commander," Joker replied, carefully setting his coffee aside. If he spilled it, he'd never hear the end of it.

"Scramble Chakwas and the medical team. We need an emergency medevac," Shepard paused for the barest of instants, "Garrus is down."

"Garrus?" Joker answered, dismayed. "What the hell?"

"Chakwas, medevac, these coordinates. Now!" Shepard barked. Joker keyed the coordinates into the nav system and EDI uploaded them to the flight system of the Kodiak shuttle in the drop bay. Even as Shepard cut the link, Joker keyed the intercomm and passed along Shepard's orders to the medical team. Closing the comm again, he muttered incredulously, "Garrus...it's a small galaxy."

Joker started in his seat as Chambers asked, "Garrus?"

The helmsman turned the flight seat around so he was facing the Yeoman. "Turian," he explained, "Used to be with C-Sec. He joined the crew not long before Shepard became a Spectre. Last I heard, he'd gone back to the Citadel for Spectre training." Joker shrugged, "Guess that didn't work out for him."

Chambers considered this for a moment, before asking, "So Garrus would know the Commander well, then?"

Joker looked up at Chambers with narrowed eyes. The former Alliance pilot had dealt with enough counsellors and their loaded questions to know that the question the young woman was asking wasn't the question she was _really _asking. "Garrus knows Shepard about as well as anybody on her old crew did," he said with another shrug. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason in particular. I'm just curious," the Yeoman replied.

"Right," Joker said and turned back to his instruments. Over his shoulder he said to Chambers, "Your coffee's getting cold."

---

Kelly observed Shepard as the Commander restlessly paced around the CIC like a caged tigress. The drop shuttle had only just returned from Omega carrying the medical team and a badly wounded turian. Shepard hadn't yet removed her hardsuit and Kelly was dismayed by the sheer amount of blue blood staining the armour.

From the brief conversation she'd had with Jacob after the crew had returned, Kelly had learned that Garrus had taken several hits from the anti-personnel gun of a mercenary gunship and Shepard had attempted to staunch the bleeding. "That turian's one tough son of a bitch," Jacob had said quietly as the medical team hurried into the medbay. "I doubt most other people would have survived at all."

Shepard stalked around the CIC, each footstep ringing out hollowly as she moved, gauntleted hands fisted at her side. Abruptly, the Commander halted before turning on her heel and marching to her computer terminal. From the corner of her left eye, Kelly watched Shepard as she stood at the terminal, seeming to stare into and through the holographic displays.

For several moments, Kelly debated whether or not to speak to Shepard about what had happened. Without looking up from her terminal, Shepard asked, "Something you need, Chambers?"

Kelly left her station and walked up to Shepard, noting the places where her hardsuit had taken damage. Cerberus had used its sources within the Alliance military structure to obtain many after-action reports from Shepard's naval career and they had made for interesting reading. Shepard was noted for an 'aggressive and at times, reckless approach' to combat that often 'placed her in positions of unnecessary risk, focusing the attention of hostiles on herself rather than her squad.'

The outer ablative layer of Shepard's hardsuit bore testament to this - the armour was cracked and pitted from the impact of mass accelerator fire. Kelly imagined that Shepard's fighting style often gave Miranda fits. She could almost hear Miranda's voice: _We've poured too many resources into you for you to throw yourself into battle like this._

"Are you feeling all right, Commander?" Kelly asked, voice low.

Shepard turned from the console and met Kelly's concerned gaze for a moment before answering with a sigh, "Not really, no. I almost got Garrus killed out there. Damn it!" Shepard suddenly turned and slammed her fist into the terminal, causing the amber displays to flicker momentarily.

More than anything else at that moment, Kelly wanted to place her hand on Shepard's arm and offer comfort and support. "I spoke with Jacob earlier," she said instead, "He said you did everything you could to help Garrus."

Shepard laughed sourly, "Yeah, _after_ he was almost blown up by that gunship. I should have finished the job on it when I had the chance."

Kelly tilted her head to one side and Shepard noted the quizzical look on her face. "There was a batarian mechanic repairing a gunship the mercs were using for air support. Garrus had shot it up pretty well earlier and it was grounded for repairs." The Commander sighed again, "I put the mechanic down. Hard. Like an _idiot_, I thought that would be enough," Shepard paused before adding, "It wasn't."

"Commander...Shepard that wasn't your fault," Kelly spoke quietly.

Shepard shook her head, "I had the chance to really do a number on it and I blew it. If he dies..." Shepard trailed off, a helpless look on her face. This time Kelly _did _put a hand on Shepard's arm and even through the hardsuit, felt the tension in Shepard's body.

The former Spectre looked down at the young woman's hand on her armoured sleeve. _You should probably pull her into line for that_ she told herself but found that she welcomed the simple human touch, craved it almost. Shepard wondered how a nice girl like Chambers had ended up with Cerberus in the first place. Gently, Shepard removed the hand and turned it over so the palm faced upwards. The Yeoman's hand was stained with still-sticky blood.

"You might want to wash up after that," Shepard suggested. Kelly blinked at the multi-coloured smears on her hand.

"The blue's turian," Shepard flatly stated, "Garrus. The orange is krogan. Garm, Blood Pack leader." Shepard released the hand and stepped back from Kelly.

"Commander, if I overstepped my boundaries then, I apologise," Kelly said, feeling flustered and off-balance. Shepard waved a hand in a gesture Kelly took to mean 'forget about it.'

The Yeoman took a series of deep breaths and soon centred herself. Shepard had resumed her pacing and, as she passed by Kelly once more, the young woman asked, "Garrus is important to you, isn't he?"

Again, Shepard halted and spun around. _Quick_, Kelly thought, _So scary-quick_. The former Alliance officer seemed to consider the question for several seconds.

"He is. But not in the way you're probably thinking. Garrus was on my crew. They were all important to me, you know?"

Kelly nodded, marvelling at the way Shepard obviously cared about the people who fought alongside her. Even now, surrounded by Cerberus personnel, the Commander took the time between missions to tour the _Normandy_ and check in with the crew. It was something Kelly had rarely seen from the ranking officers in Cerberus. Certainly, Operative Lawson made no such attempts to bond with the crew.

"So," Shepard continued, "If you were asking whether Garrus and I were..." she held up her right hand, middle finger crossed over index, "The answer's no. I deeply admire and respect Garrus and I like to think he feels the same about me but no."

Kelly nodded. "It's just that, in Cerberus, we don't often see the ranking officers..._care_ about people as much you do. It's a good thing to see," she said.

Shepard shrugged, "It's not rocket science, Kelly. If Miranda would bother to come out of her office and actually _talk_ to the crew instead of barking orders at them, they wouldn't call her Ice Queen behind her back."

Kelly covered a laugh with the hand that wasn't stained with alien blood. "Ouch, Commander. Ouch."

---

Garrus floated in the black, copious amounts of drugs and medigel keeping the pain from his injuries at bay. The turian didn't know where he was, exactly, only that Shepard was somewhere nearby. For now, that knowledge, along with the meds was enough to keep him calm. He'd taken a bad hit during the fighting. More than one, actually and had fully expected to die fighting the mercs. Shepard showing up when she had was...unexpected though welcome.

Gradually, the turian became aware of sounds, smells and sensations as he slowly returned to consciousness - footsteps as people, likely medical staff went about their duties, the sharp odour of antiseptic and a deep, dull ache in the right side of his head, extending down into the mandible on that side.

"Garrus?" a familiar voice came to him, piercing the black. With an effort, he opened his eyes and winced at the painfully bright lights. A figure, at first blurry and indistinct appeared in his field of vision. A hand, warm and comforting, laid itself on his forearm. Garrus tried to sit upright and the hand moved from his forearm to his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down.

"Don't try to move just yet," the voice said. Garrus ignored the advice and again attempted to sit upright. This time the hand was accompanied by a low chuckle. "You're a stubborn son of a bitch, Garrus."

"It's my most endearing quality, Shepard," the turian managed to say. He swallowed, "Where am I?"

"You're on the _Normandy_, Garrus," Shepard replied, voice soft, "You're back where you belong. You're home."


	4. Boundaries

**Boundaries**

Miranda sat at her desk in her office aboard the _Normandy_. The office was her private sanctuary; it insulated her from the comings and goings of the crew, affording her the time needed to keep the Illusive Man informed of the mission's progress. Things seemed to be going well so far, Wilson's attempt to kill her and derail the Lazarus Project notwithstanding. Per Miranda's recommendation to the Illusive Man, a sweep of all current Cerberus operations and cells would be carried out, ensuring no further security breaches.

Commander Shepard appeared to have recovered from the initial shock when she'd been informed that two years had passed between her death and subsequent resurrection. Billions of credits had been funneled into Lazarus from various sources: Cerberus front companies, wealthy benefactors eager to secure humanity's place in the galaxy and by other means that not even Miranda herself was privy too. The Illusive Man had given Miranda a single goal - see to it that Shepard succeeded in the coming fight against the Collectors and Miranda vowed to do whatever it took to see that Shepard _did_ succeed.

The Cerberus operative looked up as the locks disengaged and her office door slid open with a mechanical sound almost like a sigh. Shepard stood on the threshold between Miranda's office and the rest of the ship, eyes moving from side to side as she quickly catalogued the room's contents - desk, office chair, sleeping area, Miranda.

Shepard's gaze settled on the dark-haired woman seated across from her. Like her office, Miranda was unadorned. She wore no rings or other items of jewelery though that was likely a matter of practicality. The office itself felt almost sterile, with only a viewport giving an impressive panorama of the space around the _Normandy_ breaking up the monotony of plain bulkheads.

Stepping into the office proper, Shepard asked, "Do you have a minute, Miranda?"

Miranda glanced at the half-finished report on her desktop terminal's holographic display and back up at Shepard. "There's a lot to do, Shepard. Maybe another time?"

Shepard shook her head, taking a position against the port bulkhead, arms folded over her chest, right ankle crossed over left, "This won't take a minute," she replied. The Commander's posture was one of studied casualness but it was an act Miranda wasn't buying.

Even before Cerberus rebuilt her, Shepard had possessed almost supernaturally quick reflexes, honed by years of special forces training. Given the extensive cybernetic enhancements necessary to bring her back to life, Miranda had no doubt that, if she so chose, Shepard could unfold herself from the bulkhead and be across the room before most people could do more than blink. Miranda was not most people, however.

Miranda pushed back from her desk, a slight frown creasing her brow. "We need to have a little chat about boundaries, Shepard," she said, feeling mildly annoyed. Was this Shepard's way of attempting to exert dominance? To Miranda's surprise, Shepard laughed.

"Boundaries...that's cute coming from you. I spent how long exposed and naked while Cerberus had its way with me?" Shepard glanced down at herself and smirked, "And whose idea was it to firm up my bust? Not that I'm complaining, mind."

Miranda's frown deepened. "Is there something you wanted to discuss, Commander?" she asked, again wishing that the Illusive Man had allowed her to implant command and control wetware into Shepard's brain.

Still leaning against the bulkhead, Shepard asked, "You know what Cerberus' problem is, Lawson?"

Miranda folded her hands together atop her desk blotter. "No. But I'm sure you're going to tell me."

Still smiling slightly, Shepard replied, "When most people hear the word Cerberus they think pro-human, anti-alien..." Shepard trailed off, her smile deepening as she resumed her train of thought, "Morally bankrupt."

"Spare me, Shepard," Miranda felt her anger rise and forced herself to relax. _Shepard is just looking to provoke a reaction,_ she told herself. "If not for _morally bankrupt_ Cerberus, you would be dead and there would be nobody to carry the fight to our enemies."

The former Spectre raised a hand in an apparently conciliatory gesture. "I'm not here to start an argument."

Miranda took a breath, released it slowly. "Then why _are_ you here?"

"Hearts and minds," Shepard spoke softly, forcing Miranda to lean forward in order to hear. "Cerberus needs to win the battle for hearts and minds if they hope to be seen as something more than they're perceived to be."

Miranda's eyes widened as she considered what Shepard had told her, thought about the implications. It would indeed be useful if Cerberus could change how the galaxy viewed the organisation. But how? Where to even begin?

Shepard nodded as Miranda digested her words. "Take Veetor as a for-instance," she said. "You wanted to take him to some Cerberus facility for an interrogation-"

Miranda cut her off with a raised hand. "It would have been gentle questioning, Commander," the Cerberus operative interjected.

Shepard rolled her eyes, "Please, you and I both know that if Cerberus had 'gently questioned' him," the Commander made quotation marks with her fingers, "He would have been sent back to the quarians in a box. A small box. At the _very_ least he'd have been left even more screwed up than when we found him."

Shepard and Miranda locked gazes for several moments before Shepard went on, "Instead, we sent him home to the quarians and he'll tell everybody about how the nice humans came and found him and saved him from the monsters." Shepard tapped her breastbone, "Hearts and minds, Lawson. Hearts and minds."

Miranda shook her head, "You can't be that naive, Commander. The words of a single, very likely unbalanced quarian are not going to be enough to improve the galaxy's perception of us."

Shepard shrugged, "You have to start somewhere, Miranda. Just think about it is all I'm saying." Shepard pushed herself off the bulkhead, touched two fingers to her forehead in mock salute and exited the office.

It was a while before Miranda was able to focus herself enough to finish her report; Shepard's words persisted in her mind, seeming to demand that Miranda give them proper consideration.


	5. Jacked Off

**Jacked Off**

"That's Jack?" the enquiry from Garrus as he looked through the observation window was accompanied by a confused flick of his mandibles. Below, the cryo-stasis tank holding the biotic convict had opened, revealing a heavily tattooed woman sporting a shaved head and a murderous glare.

Shepard nodded as the woman - Jack - tore free of her restraints. "Seems like," the Commander said. Shepard leaned forward, hoping for a better view of the escaping prisoner. A trio of heavy mechs stomped and thudded towards Jack, gun barrel arms lining up shots at her head.

The turian turned his head to face Shepard. The salarian professor stood beside her, tapping a finger against his jaw. "Prisoner breakout will cause much confusion," Mordin mused, "Divert attention of Blue Suns. Useful."

"Commander," Garrus asked, "Pardon my ignorance but isn't 'Jack' usually a man's name?"

Shepard nodded again, "Usually," she agreed. A familiar considering expression settled into place on Shepard's face. After a moment she added, "Maybe it's short for Jacqueline?"

In the cryo storage room, a swirling biotic corona enveloped the woman in question and, mouth contorted in a snarl of pure rage, she hurled herself at the oncoming mechs. The deck beneath Garrus' feet shook as an explosion sundered the heavies and punched a jagged-edged hole in the wall. Shepard raised an eyebrow at the sudden carnage and whistled in admiration. "I've gotta learn how to do that," she murmured.

As the last rumbles of the explosion dissipated, Garrus hefted his assault rifle and double-checked the thermal sinks. The turian pointed at the observation window, "Come on, we'd better find Jack before she tears the ship apart."

Shepard nodded her agreement; Garrus and Mordin fell in beside her. "I wonder how Miranda's getting along with her homework," Shepard said idly as she led her squad deeper into the now-compromised _Purgatory_.

---

Miranda had spent an unusually sleepless night following Shepard's 'hearts and minds' speech. Miranda was not accustomed to feeling doubt. Especially not about the way Cerberus operated but was it possible that Shepard had a point? No...no of course not. Cerberus existed to safeguard humanity and secure a place for all humans in the galaxy. Was that not a worthy goal?

And yet...If Shepard had not been present at Freedom's Progress to talk the quarians around, it was very likely that violence would have erupted. Miranda was not afraid to die for her cause. Death did not worry her. Failure did, failure to accomplish Cerberus' objectives. Had Shepard not been there, Miranda held no illusions that there would have been very little recourse available to her. The quarians would never have trusted the Cerberus operatives if not for Shepard.

It was that fact that Miranda's mind kept coming back to, like a rat gnawing on a piece of meat. As she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep, Miranda wondered how Shepard had managed it - to secure the help of people and aliens from such disparate backgrounds and then forge them into such powerful force. Frustrated by her inability to quell her own mind enough to sleep, Miranda threw aside the covers and surged from the bed. For all of her genetic perfection and training, she still lacked that essential spark, that _fire_ that drew people to Shepard. Drew them to her and made them want to follow her into hell.

Miranda knew this was not something that could be taught...or could it? Miranda sat back on the bed, elbows on knees and briefly held her hand in her hands as she made a decision.

---

By the time Miranda had exited the elevator and stepped into the CIC, she had already forwarded the latest status reports to the Illusive Man and was able to devote her full attention to her chosen course of action. Miranda clasped her hands behind her back, unconsciously assuming a cold, slightly arrogant-looking expression as she strode from the elevator car. Shepard wasn't at her customary place by the galaxy map. Nor was she, Miranda discovered, sweeping the room with her blue-eyed gaze, on the Combat deck at all.

The crew straightened their backs and conversations died mid-sentence as Miranda entered their midst. At his station aft of the bridge, Hadley leaned in towards Matthews, "What's Lawson doing up here?" he asked in hushed tones.

Matthews shrugged, "Hell if I know. Just don't draw her attention."

As unobtrusively as he could, Hadley looked back towards the galaxy map display in the centre of the CIC and breathed a sigh of relief. Lawson was discussing something with Kelly. Hadley returned his attention to his instruments.

Unwilling to scour the entirety of the frigate for Shepard, Miranda crossed the deck to Chambers. The young woman turned as Miranda approached. "Good morning, Operative Lawson," Chambers greeted her.

Miranda nodded by way of reply. "I'm looking for the Commander," she stated.

A concerned look passed across the Yeoman's face. Right eyebrow raised, Miranda prodded, "Well?"

Chambers bit her lower lip and replied in hushed tones, "Commander Shepard is currently indisposed."

"Meaning?" Miranda pressed.

"Commander Shepard and Dr Chakwas shared a bottle of Serris Ice Brandy last night," Chambers explained. Miranda grit her teeth in exasperation. Shepard was _drunk?_ The commanding officer of the _Normandy_ was not at her post because she and the chief medical officer had been _drinking?_

"I assume Shepard is in her quarters?" Miranda ground out. Chambers nodded. Without replying, Miranda turned on her heel and re-entered the elevator.

During the short elevator ride, Miranda closed her eyes and attempted to calm herself. The elevator doors hissed open and Miranda stood motionless before the closed door of Shepard's cabin for several moments, marshalling her thoughts. Miranda palmed the holographic control panel and the door opened. Shepard lay on her bed, sock feet crossed at the ankles, boots neatly to one side, hands folded together atop her chest, thumbs tapping out a beat on her breastbone in time to the music playing from the sound system by the bed.

The music was nothing Miranda recognised though this did not surprise her - Shepard was known to have a 'thing' for late twentieth century rock. Shepard raised her head to look at Miranda as the Cerberus agent entered the cabin. Much as Shepard had done earlier, Miranda's sharp-eyed gaze swiftly took in the cabin. The fish tank taking up most of one wall spilled a soft blue light into the room though currently no fish swam in the tank.

A few scale-model ships had been displayed in a shelving unit by the desk - Shepard must have picked them up on Omega. A model of the original SR-1 _Normandy_ had pride of place in the centre of the shelves. Shepard met Miranda's gaze as she lifted a remote control from beside her and clicked off the music.

"Lawsie!" Shepard greeted, sitting up on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest, "You're drunk," she stated, voice flat.

Shepard lifted her right hand, thumb and forefinger held slightly apart. "A little bit," she admitted, smiling. "So, what's the emergency, Lawsie?"

Miranda frowned, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me 'Lawsie', Commander."

Shepard nodded and still smiling, replied, "Right, no sense of humour. So, _Miranda_, what's the problem? I only ask because you never leave your office unless it's to go planetside and the fact that you came to _me_ instead of asking me to come to _you_ implies that whatever it is, it's fairly serious."

The former Alliance officer placed a hand on the bed beside her, "Sit down and tell me allll about it," she invited.

Miranda shook her head. "I'm fine standing here, thanks." This was a mistake, she told herself. She should be preparing for the pickup on the _Purgatory_, not standing around talking with a half-drunk woman who was supposed to be the saviour of the galaxy. Apparently seeing something in Miranda's facial expression, Shepard rose from the bed and, losing the bantering tone, said, "Seriously, Miranda, talk to me."

"Very well," Miranda paused. For all of her genetic perfection, intelligence and training, Miranda had difficulty finding the right words. Maybe there were none? Shepard stood before her, arms loose at her side, looking at Miranda expectantly. "How did you do it, Commander?" Miranda finally asked. Shepard lifted an eyebrow, a silent inquiry.

"During the hunt for Saren," Miranda clarified, "The way you pulled together such a diverse group of people and inspired them."

Shepard shrugged, "I've never stopped to think about it, honestly. You're a fine leader, Lawson. You know how to plan operations, handle small-unit tactics. I'm not sure what the issue is."

Unsettled, Miranda began pacing the small space around her, her measured footsteps clicking hollowly on the deck. "The _issue_ is that you have a...a _fire_ inside of you that draws people to you, makes them follow you because they _want_ to not because they're ordered to." Miranda halted her pacing, feeling helpless and hating it.

Shepard traced the fingertips of her right hand across her facial scars, a recent habit that Miranda associated with Shepard considering a problem and working out how to solve it. "You're asking how I inspire people?" she eventually asked. Miranda nodded. Hand dropping back to her side, Shepard shrugged slightly, "I suppose part of it is...empathy. No offence, Miranda but you're sometimes not the easiest person to like."

Miranda bristled, "My job is to lead people, not be their friend!"

"Annnd the bitch is back," Shepard smiled to take the sting out of her words. "OK, look. From what I've seen of you, you tend to view people as assets to be used, rather than as people. Would it be fair to say that?"

Miranda opened her mouth to protest, clicked it closed again. Damn it, Shepard had a point. The two years she had spent overseeing the Lazarus Project, Miranda had always viewed Shepard as 'the subject' rather than as Commander Shepard. Of course, such work demanded a certain amount of professional distance from the subject in question...and she was doing it again.

With a sigh, Miranda nodded, "You have a point," she conceded. "I look at the dossiers for these specialists and ask myself, how best can they be put to use." Miranda ran a hand through her hair, feeling her scalp prickle with frustration. Shepard looked on, expression open and non-judgemental.

"I want you to try something, Miranda," Shepard began, voice low and quiet. "Get out of your office, wander around the ship, no destination in mind, just wander around. _Talk_ to the crew, ask how they're doing, that kind of thing. Probably take a bit for them to want to open up about how they're really doing but keep at it."

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest. "We have things to do, Shepard," she said, a note of defiance in her tone. "I don't have _time_ to wander around the ship and _chat_ with people."

Shepard waited until the outburst was finished, "You done yet? I'm taking Garrus and Mordin with me to collect the convict." Miranda opened her mouth to protest this decision but halted as Shepard raised her hand. "You came to me for help, Miranda," Shepard continued, "Humour me, will you?" Miranda acquiesced with a nod. "Talk to the crew, get to know them as _people_. Find out three things about somebody that you couldn't know by reading their file."

"You're giving me...homework, Commander?" Miranda asked incredulously.

The once-Spectre nodded. "Don't try Chambers, though. Too easy. Girl loves to talk." Shepard's lips quirked upwards in a half-smile. "I'm _still_ trying to figure out how she ended up working for Cerberus."

"Maybe you should talk to her, Commander," Miranda replied, with a half-smile of her own.

"Touche."

---

Miranda did as Shepard had suggested: she wandered around the ship, feeling oddly out of place. As she passed by the various crew stations, conversations stopped and the crewmen hurriedly looked back at their instruments, not wanting to appear to be slacking off on the job. Miranda sighed. How was she supposed to talk to the crew if they reacted like that to her mere presence?

Hands clasped behind her back, head held high, Miranda cut an imposing figure as she walked along deck to the elevator. The CIC was a dead loss, it seemed. Inside the elevator, Miranda punched the control panel hard enough that her hand reddened. The elevator made a quick descent to the Engineering deck.

As she walked in the direction of the drive core, Miranda heard the voices of the engineers as they bantered with each other.

"The forward tanks are buoyant and elevated," Gabby reported.

"Are you talking about the _Normandy_ or Miranda?" Kenneth replied. Miranda stopped dead.

"I'm talking about the ones that are covered and protected, not bouncing in the breeze," Gabby shot back. Miranda's eyes narrowed and her hands closed into fists.

"Oh, I don't know. I think Operative Lawson's uniform is very official. It always makes me stand at attention."

The sound of Miranda's footsteps as they echoed off the bulkheads was all the warning the engineers received before her shadow fell over them. They turned towards her, Gabby's eyes wide, an 'oh crap' expression on her face. "Oh-" she began.

"Bollocks," Kenneth finished.

The engineers stood ramrod straight as Miranda gave them the verbal equivalent of a lashing with a cat 'o nine tails. When she was done, Miranda stormed back to the elevator, and, though she kept them short, her fingernails dug painfully into the palms of her hands, so tightly were her fists clenched. Fists and jaw clenched so tightly they ached, Miranda departed the elevator on the Crew deck, bearing towards the women's restroom.

Inside, she gripped the sides of the sink tightly, her muscles quivering with rage. How dare they? Miranda looked at herself in the mirror over the sink. Her normally creamy skin was tinged pink with anger and her face felt hot. Miranda jerked the cold water tap open with a savage twist and splashed water in face. It didn't seem to help much.

Behind her the door opened. Reflected in the mirror was Chambers. _Great._ The Yeoman paused in the doorway. _Just go_ Miranda thought at her reflection. Chambers entered the room and the door slid shut behind her. "Miranda?" the young woman said.

Miranda turned from the sink and wiped her face dry. "Yes?" she answered, fighting hard to keep her voice even.

"I've seen you pacing around the ship," Chambers said, obviously choosing her words carefully, "Is something troubling you?"

"Even if I said there was, what could you do about it?" Miranda snapped.

"If it helps you to get if off your chest, you can talk to me any time," the young redhead offered.

Miranda laughed humourlessly, "Talking. I _tried_ that!" She took a breath, aware of how petulant she must sound. Chambers nodded understandingly. Miranda closed her eyes, and felt a pulse beating in her forehead. Eyes still closed, she did something hadn't done for longer than she could remember: she asked a personal question.

"How are you doing, Kelly?"

---

The shore team barely made it back to the _Normandy_ and were still in the airlock as the frigate pulled away from the _Purgatory_. All that remained of the prison ship was a rapidly expanding ball of plasma. The _Normandy _and her crew experienced a few moments of turbulence as the shockwave from the explosion rocked the frigate. Shepard and Garrus tumbled to the deck, landing atop Mordin. Audible over the creaking of the bulkheads was a steady stream of invective from the newly-freed Jack.

As the ship steadied and blue-shifted to FTL speeds, Garrus and Shepard stood up, the latter reaching down to pull the salarian to his feet. As though nothing had happened, Shepard cycled the airlock and led the others into the CIC. "Welcome aboard, Jack," the Commander said.

The biotic's hard gaze traversed the CIC, taking note of the Cerberus-issue uniforms. Turning to the Commander, Jack said, "Go to hell, Shepard." Without waiting for a reply, the scowling young woman stalked off, glaring at everybody.

"She seems like a fun person," Garrus said dryly.

"Must return to lab, check on results of experiments to counter seeker swarms," Mordin spoke rapidly and hurried off.

Shepard waved farewell to his departing back, "Talk to you later, Mordin." Shepard turned to Garrus, shaking her head at the state of his hardsuit, "Are you sure you don't want a replacement? It's not like Cerberus can't afford it."

"It's fine, Shepard," Garrus said as they walked through the CIC. "Besides, the damage adds character. I'll be in the mess if you need me."

"And then there was one," Shepard spoke quietly to herself as she stopped at her terminal.

"How was the mission on the _Purgatory,_ Commander?" Kelly asked.

"Explosive," Shepard deadpanned. Shepard nodded as the Yeoman laughed softly. "Piece of advice if you ever find yourself in the field, Kelly," she offered.

"Oh?"

"If somebody asks you to surrender your weapons, don't. Because, usually, they're getting ready to screw you." Shepard paused, "And not in a nice way, either."

Kelly nodded, a small smile on her face. Shepard elaborated on her theme, "Of course, if they threaten to put a bullet between your eyes, it's usually wise to go along with it. In _that _case, it helps to have backup from a biotic or omni-tool expert."

Shepard smiled as Kelly immediately spotted the flaw in this plan. _She's a sharp one._"But Commander, what if they want to take the bio-amps and omni-tools as well?"

"You carry a spare one, preferably inside a shielded packet to confuse any scanning gear they may have," Shepard said.

"That's very clever, Commander," Kelly smiled. "Oh, Operative Lawson wishes to see you in her quarters, Commander. I should have told you earlier."

"That's fine, Kelly," Shepard assured her as she removed the gloves of her hardsuit and tucked them inside the thigh pockets on her armour. The former Alliance operative entered the elevator and, with the doors shut, allowed herself a moment to rest the back of her head against the wall of the elevator, eyes closed. It had been a narrow escape from the prison ship and, now that the adrenaline-rush of combat had worn off, Shepard felt tired and sluggish, and her armour felt heavier than it had only a moment ago.

The doors opened onto the crew deck; Shepard straightened her posture and stepped from the elevator car, nodding at the various crew as she walked to Lawson's office. The Cerberus operative turned away from the small observation window set into one wall as Shepard entered. "Commander," Miranda said in greeting, "I trust our newest crew-member is safely aboard?"

"Jack?" Shepard raised her right shoulder in a half-shrug, "She's around. Somewhere."

Miranda's blue eyes narrowed, "Around? You don't know where she is?"

Shepard lifted her head towards the ceiling as she addressed the AI, "EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?" came the smoothly synthesised reply.

"Are you able to locate Jack?"

"Jack is currently residing in the sub-deck on the Engineering level, Shepard," EDI provided this information instantly, tapping into the network of cameras and monitoring devices installed throughout the ship.

"Thank you, EDI," Shepard answered and nodded at Miranda, "She's fine."

Miranda shook her head, a few strands of dark brown hair falling across her forehead. "I did as you suggested, Commander," Miranda said as she sat on a low couch near her desk, gesturing for Shepard to sit beside her. As the once-Spectre seated herself, Miranda elaborated, "First I tried to...connect with the crew in the CIC. They were not inclined to talk to me." Miranda paused, looking at her hands. "I overheard the engineers having a joke at my expense," she continued, voice hardening.

"Ah," was all Shepard said in reply.

Miranda met Shepard's gaze as she continued, "It was difficult at first, but in the end, I had quite an interesting conversation with your Yeoman."

Shepard nodded, "All right, Miranda. Hit me. Three things you couldn't know about Chambers by reading her file."

Miranda smiled with real pleasure, "She likes to draw. People, landscapes. She showed me some of her sketches. Kelly's quite talented, actually." Miranda continued, "Her sister runs an animal shelter. And her favourite colour is pink." Miranda shook her head at this last point. "Pink..." she muttered.

"You called her Kelly," Shepard observed. "Make a new friend, Miranda?"

Miranda was silent as she considered Shepard's words. "Maybe not a friend, exactly." Miranda looked out the window at the shifting blue light as the frigate flew at FTL speed.

Shepard rose to her feet and Miranda joined her. "It's a start, Miranda."

The Commander was most of the way to the office door when Miranda spoke again, "Shepard." The hardsuited figure looked at Miranda over her shoulder. Miranda went on "Thank you for your advice earlier."

"You're on my crew, Miranda," Shepard replied and left the office.


	6. Insomnia

**A/N:** This chapter is rated 'M' for Jack.

**Insomnia**

On a subconscious level, Shepard had known the bout of insomnia would have to come sooner or later. The former Alliance Navy officer hadn't needed Chakwas to tell her that the sleeplessness was stress-related. Shepard had figured _that _much out for herself. Waking up to the knowledge that she had died and been 'gone' for two years was, after all, quite a shock to the system. The surprise was that it had taken so long for the insomnia to manifest. Throughout the days and weeks of travelling to recruit Garrus, Mordin and Jack, Shepard had enjoyed a regular sleep pattern untroubled by dreams. Now, however, in transit to the distant world of Korlus, Shepard was unable to wind down enough to sleep.

Ship-time was 0245 hours. Most of the Cerberus personnel were on sleep rotation with a skeleton crew taking its turn at the stations in the CIC. The _Normandy's_ back-from-the-dead commanding officer sat in her quarters playing her twentieth chess match against the AI. Or was it the twenty-first match? It didn't really matter. Shepard had never been a particularly skilled chess player and EDI, bless her digital heart, wasn't taking pity on her organic opponent just because she'd slept perhaps five hours during the last twenty-four.

"Checkmate, Commander," EDI said as her queen committed virtual regicide against Shepard's king.

Shepard felt tendons in her jaw pop as her mouth gaped open in a yawn.

"In order to continue operating at peak capacity, a human of your age and gender requires approximately 8 hours of sleep per twenty-four hour cycle, Commander," EDI informed her. Not for the first time, either.

EDI's human chess opponent clicked her mouth shut and rubbed a hand over closed eyes. "If I could sleep, EDI, I would," Shepard informed the AI.

The _Normandy's _AI observed as the human powered down the desktop terminal and rose from her seat. Again Shepard rubbed her eyes, a gesture that, according to onboard databanks, signified physical tiredness or perhaps mental or emotional stress. It could also indicate an irritation of the optical organs due to the presence of allergens such as pollen, smoke or dust however EDI disregarded this possibility as there were no such allergens present in the current environment.

"My databanks have a suggestion that may help, Shepard," EDI said as the human turned to the door of her cabin and smoothed down her shipboard uniform. At this, Shepard tilted her head towards the ceiling, a habit EDI had observed in many of the organic crew as though it increased their auditory functions.

"Go ahead, EDI."

"My files suggest a glass of warm milk may assist with inducing REM sleep patterns."

Shepard blinked slowly at this and left the cabin without replying. The Commander emerged from the elevator at the CIC and, hands stuffed into the pockets of her uniform, headed towards the lab.

Mordin looked up as the door hissed open, unsurprised by Shepard's arrival. The salarian's large dark eyes and the keen mind behind them swiftly took in Shepard's physical appearance - dark circles beneath the eyes, slightly faraway look and shuffling footsteps - all these things pointed towards an ongoing lack of sleep. _Continued sleep deprivation will eventually lead to impaired cognitive ability, poor judgement. Should offer medical assistance_.

"Mordin?" Shepard queried as the door closed behind her, "Don't you _ever_ sleep?"

The professor nodded, tri-fingered hands working rapidly at a keyboard as he spoke, "Require only two hours of sleep per day. Benefit of rapid metabolic rate, can get more work done with less down-time." Mordin paused to take breath, "What of you, Shepard? Unable to sleep?"

The tall woman nodded, running a hand through her hair, and wincing as her fingers encountered a small tangle. "I have these infrequent periods of insomnia. Stress-related. I'll be fine in a few days."

Mordin glanced at his desktop monitor and frowned at the readings. Shepard walked over to stand beside him, hovering just behind his right shoulder. "How's the work on the seeker swarm counter-measure going?" she asked.

"Progress steady. Not as fast as I'd like. Could work faster with fewer interruptions," Mordin admonished.

Despite her tiredness, Shepard smiled and replied teasingly, "Can't have you feeling all lonely and ignored, Mordin." The salarian's fingers paused in their rapid-fire manipulation of the console as he gave the human a quizzical look. Shepard shook her head, "That was a joke, Mordin."

Mordin nodded, "Ah yes, inter-species comedic banter not always successful, Shepard. Should get back to work. Appreciate the visit."

Shepard departed the lab, feeling better despite the lack of sleep. Stifling a yawn with her hand, the still all too awake woman made for the crew deck. The _Normandy_'s mess and galley were dimly lit to simulate 'night time' and Shepard found the area empty. Increasingly desperate to achieve even a few hours' sleep but unwilling to resort to medicating herself, Shepard's feet carried her to the refrigerator behind the galley's kitchen counter. Opening the refrigerator door, Shepard winced at the hard white glare that spilled out into the dimly lit surroundings.

Pickings were slim - a slightly wilted-looking lettuce in the vegetable compartment and assorted food items stored in bottles and jars. Gardner had been right - the provisions courtesy of Cerberus _were _horrendous. Still, Shepard found what she wanted - the plastic two-litre bottle of milk. Full cream, sinful. Shepard smiled to herself as she shut the fridge door and set about looking for a saucepan to heat the milk in. Gardner kept the galley in good order, Shepard noted approvingly and soon a saucepan was located and placed upon the stovetop.

While she waited for the milk to warm, the Commander consulted her omni-tool, reviewing the files on the krogan warlord Okeer provided by Cerberus. A veteran of the Krogan Rebellions, Okeer possessed first-hand knowledge of the genophage and had lived long enough to see the turians use the salarian-engineered bio-weapon against his people. _Great_, Shepard thought as she observed the milk gently simmering in the pan, _Just what we need, an angry krogan on the same ship as a turian and a salarian genophage researcher. Marvellous!_ Shepard put such thoughts from her mind, which was easier than it should have been, given that the recent sleep deficit had affected her concentration.

Shepard turned the stove off and poured the milk into a glass which she carried to the mess table. "This had better work," she muttered to herself, sliding into a seat. A feeling of intense weariness seemed to settle about her shoulders. Shepard propped her head up with the heel of her hand, elbow braced on the table. The Commander's eyelids slid shut and, with an effort, she forced them back open. Just then, it seemed like too much effort to lever herself from her seat, make the trip to her cabin, pull back the sheets of her bed and slide in between them. With the glass of milk still untouched, Shepard folded her arms on the table and laid her head upon them. She was asleep in seconds.

---

Kelly emerged from the crew dorm ready and eager to face the challenges the new day would bring. Throughout the night, the frigate had been travelling faster than light towards Korlus where it was hoped that Shepard would be able to convince the krogan warlord Okeer to join their cause. Privately, Kelly felt a ripple of unease at the thought of having such a dangerous being as a krogan aboard but she had absolute faith in Shepard. Kelly was joined on her way to the mess by Hawthorne. Entering the mess, Kelly was greeted by the unexpected and somehow touching vision of Shepard asleep at the mess table. The Commander's head lay on her folded forearms and, seeing the way her hair fell across her face and the gentle curves of her neck and shoulders, Kelly thought she looked simultaneously beautiful and childlike as though, in sleep, the weight of years had fallen from her.

"Aw, she looks so peaceful," Kelly said quietly.

Hawthorne looked from the sleeping officer to the Yeoman. The way Chambers was looking at Shepard..."Jesus, Chambers," Hawthorne said in amusement, "Are you crushing on Shepard?"

Kelly's mouth dropped open, "No! Of course not!" Feeling her skin flush, Kelly hurriedly left the mess and Hawthorne behind, the latter unable to suppress a laugh at the Yeoman's obvious discomfort. "That'll be fun to watch," Hawthorne said to himself.

Unaware of the crew gathering in the mess for breakfast, Shepard slowly opened her eyes and raised her head, wincing at the stiffness in her neck. "Ohh," she groaned, tilting her head from side to side. Hawthorne cringed at the audible pops emanating from the woman's neck. "Morning, Commander," he said. Shepard straightened up, blinking at the crew as they lined up to receive their meals, talking amongst themselves.

"What time is it?" Shepard asked. Aside from the ache in her neck, she felt good. The crew finding her crashed out at the mess table probably didn't present her in the best light but sleep was sleep.

Hawthorne smiled and placed a mug of coffee before the Commander, "Breakfast," he replied. Shepard nodded her thanks and sipped the hot, bitter-tasting beverage. "Can I get you anything else, ma'am?" the Cerberus crewman asked. Shepard shook her head, again wincing at the stiffness. "I need a hot shower," she stated and left the room.

---

As Shepard stepped beneath the nozzle of her private shower - rank hath its privileges - she unconsciously turned her face towards the ceiling where she imagined EDI resided, "EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Inform the ground team that I want them in the briefing room in fifteen," the Spectre replied, relishing the slightly too-hot water on her back. The hissing of the shower drowned out any reply the AI may have made. After five minutes under the spray, Shepard made herself close the taps and reach for a towel. With her hair still damp, Shepard closed the final latches of her hardsuit and ran through a diagnostic pattern. Satisfied with the condition of her suit, she inspected each of her weapons before clipping them to the mounting points on the armour. Armed and armoured, Shepard left her cabin. It was time to go to work.

---

Sitting in the dimly lit recesses of the Engineering deck, Jack scowled and looked up from the datapad in her hands as the AI summoned her. "Commander Shepard requests that all ground team members report to the briefing room."

"Commander Shepard can fuckin' _blow me_," Jack retorted, throwing down the datapad. The electronic device, one of several containing the Cerberus files she'd asked for, clattered to the deck. Jack stood up from low cot she'd taken from the crew quarters - nobody had dared to even say a word about that, she thought with a savage grin. The tattooed woman checked the action of the pistol and shotgun she'd looted from the armoury - nobody had tried to stop that, either. Not even the cheerleader, Jack noted, still smiling her hate-filled grin. There was to be a reckoning between the two of them. Maybe not today, maybe not even this month. But soon.

Clipping the weapons to her belt - her biotics were enough to kill anything but she never went _anywhere _unarmed, Jack moved swiftly and silently up the stairs. Putting the fear of God into the Scottish engineer was her new favourite hobby. Jack emerged from the subdeck, hand resting lightly on the butt of the sidearm and stepped in between the pair of engineers. "Boo," she whispered in Donnelly's ear, breath tickling the side of his neck.

Kenneth jerked and spun around, "Jaysus Christ!" he yelled. Gabby recoiled against the bulkhead as the crazy tattooed woman suddenly popped up between them, a literal Jack in the box. Laughing softly, Jack turned and headed for the elevator. "Bitch!" Gabby spat at her as she left. Without turning around, Jack raised her right hand and shot them the finger.

Exiting the elevator, Jack almost ran into Shepard...and the cheerleader. The Cerberus bitch eyed Jack for a moment before tossing her head back in an obvious gesture of dismissal as she strutted by. "Whore," Jack said, just loudly enough for it to be heard by three of them. The cheerleader kept walking. Shepard stopped and turned to face Jack. "How are things going, Jack?" the Commander asked. And, for the barest of moments, Jack could almost believe the enquiry was genuine. Almost. "Why the fuck do you care?" she snapped.

Shepard shrugged, "I'm just checking in. Making sure my crew's doing well."

Jack leaned in close to Shepard, getting right in her face. Shepard didn't flinch and Jack felt a grudging respect for that, "I'm _not_ your crew," she hissed. "And one other thing," Jack said. Shepard raised an eyebrow, inviting her to carry on. "Tell that redhead that the next time she comes down trying to psychoanalyse me, I'll shoot her in the head and throw her out the airlock."

"Noted," Shepard replied evenly, meeting Jack's hard glare before continuing to the briefing room. Reluctantly, Jack fell in behind her. Inside the briefing room, the muted hum of conversation stopped and Jack observed a straightening of postures as Shepard walked in. Even the cheerleader's already-straight back seemed to stiffen a little more. Jack moved past Jacob, likewise the turian and salarian and slouched in the corner of the room, arms folded over her chest.

Shepard took a position at the head of the table at the centre of the briefing room and voiced the time-honoured words, "At ease, everyone." Jack rolled her eyes at the pointlessness of it all - rules, orders. Her whole life, ever since killing her way through the Cerberus facility in which she'd been raised, Jack had held fast to only one rule - kill them before they kill you. Jack listened as Shepard briefed the squad on their current objective - locate and recruit warlord Okeer. Jack didn't care about details like finding the best drop point or the likely disposition of enemy forces, she only cared about survival. That and making Cerberus pay for what they'd done to her.

Shepard wrapped up the briefing and made her squad selections. Jack noted that, interestingly, Shepard was opting to leave behind the Cerberus operatives in favour of...

"Garrus," the Commander said, "Up for another drop?"

The battered-looking turian nodded, "Always."

Jack had heard the crew talking about the turian - apparently he and Shepard and fought alongside each other a couple of years back not that Jack cared much either way. The biotic wished Shepard would dismiss her already so she could get back below decks and finish reading those files.

"Jack," Shepard's voice seemed to ring out from the bulkheads for several moments.

"Yeah?" she replied, hooking a thumb in her belt.

"You're up," Shepard responded. "Are you ready?"

Jack stood tall, unslung the shotgun and pumped the slide. "Hell yeah."

Shepard nodded and dismissed the rest of the crew. Jack smiled. A person who did not know her might have assumed she was smiling out of simple happiness. And, in a way, she was - the happiness she derived from killing. The Blue Suns on Korlus wouldn't know what hit them.


	7. Tanked

**Tanked**

At first, there was only the voice and images. The voice spoke of violence, hate, survival. The images were of war, death, destruction. A turian stripped of its armour. A krogan boot on its head. And a claw-hammer. That was a good one.

Then, the voice stopped. The images faded. Replacing them were sensations of movement, dimly heard voices speaking an alien tongue. "Watch it! Lawson'll freak if we damage it!"

"Heavy son of bitching thing!"

"I heard they have four testicles. Can you imagine it?"

Soon enough, these voices, like the voice from the tank also stopped. An unknown amount of time passed with a faint hum of power the only sound in the background. An imprint provided context - he was aboard a starship in flight. After a time the background hum was broken by new sounds as a vaguely familiar presence entered the area.

The presence looked different from the way it had when it had first arrived, just before the voice stopped. The stance was the same though, the gait that of the wary hunter. Predator instead of prey.

More unfamiliar voices, one of them seeming to come from the very air surrounding him, "Integration with the onboard systems was seamless. There are enough nutrients in the tank to sustain him for over a year."

"Is he aware, does he know where he is?"

"Unlikely. I am detecting minimal cognitive functions."

"I'm going to open the tank, stand by."

"Cerberus protocols are clear regarding untested alien technology."

"He's either a powerful resource or a time bomb, I want to find out now."

"Very well. The switch - and consequences - are yours."

The presence, the wary hunter, stepped forward, arm extended, though not to strike. The next sensation was that of liquid sluicing down over his legs and torso as drains in the tank opened and the fluid was quickly sucked away. A sharp _crack_ heralded the opening of the tank and he took a single reflexive step forward, then another, a hacking cough expelling the last of the fluid from his lungs. He planted his feet on the unyielding surface beneath them and stood tall, towering over the presence before him.

A single imperative burst into life inside his mind - Fight and determine the stronger. Giving voice to an inarticulate battle-cry, he slammed the figure before him into the wall, placing his forearm against its throat. Leaning his head forwards until his mouth was mere inches from the being before him, he spoke, "Human." A pause as the next imprint surfaced in his mind, "Female." The human female met his gaze unflinchingly. "Before you die," he continued, "I need a name."

The human female replied, voice strong and clear. "I'm Shepard. Of the _Normandy."_ No fear. Tank imprints strongly suggested that this soft, squishy thing should have been cowering in terror before him. Yet it was not. Interesting.

He shook his head, eyes swivelling in their sockets to keep her in sight. "Not your name. Mine. The voice from the tank...Legacy, Okeer, Grunt...Grunt. Grunt was among the last. It has no meaning. It'll do." And a sense of satisfaction if not happiness was born within him. "I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, pit yourself against me and try to kill me."

The female, Shepard, regarded him steadily, "Why do you want me to try to kill you?"

"Want?" the tank-bred replied, "The tank never asked what I want. Okeer...the imprints failed to implant connection. His words are hollow. Without a reason that's _mine_, one fight is a good as another. Might as well start with you."

When she spoke again, the human's voice was strong, challenging, "We're going up against enemies with the power to destroy entire civilisations. To kill them, I need strong fighters. Join us and I swear to you, you'll have the chance to fight a war that no krogan before you could even dream of."

For several moments, Grunt considered Shepard's words. Though he quite literally held her life in his hands, the human merely eyed him unflinchingly, as though death truly held no power over her. "Hmm. I can hear the truth of what you say in your words. Very well. I'll fight for you, Shepard."

As the krogan released his hold on the woman and stepped back, she smiled up at him, "I'm glad you saw it that way." Something in her voice made the krogan look down.

Held in Shepard's right hand was a pistol, the muzzle pressing into his side. Grunt smiled, "Wise, Shepard. Offer one hand but arm the other. If I find a clan, if I find what I...want, I will be honoured to eventually pit them against you."

Shepard nodded, holstering the sidearm. "You need weapons. How do you fight?"

Without hesitation, Grunt replied, "I am krogan. I want to see the fear in the eyes of my enemies as I crush them!"

Shepard smiled, a quick baring of small white teeth. "So, a shotgun then?" Grunt nodded. The tank imprints gave him knowledge of weapons, armour, and the fighting styles of such warlords as Kredak, Shiagur and Veeol. The tank-bred relished the chance to tear Shepard's enemies apart with his hands and bathe in their blood.

Grunt followed Shepard as she led him from the room that, in a sense, was his birthplace to another part of the ship containing long tables upon which lay firearms of various types. Grunt felt an almost palpable charge in the air as he passed by the human crewmembers. They looked at him with fear and uncertainty in their eyes. _These_ were the people Shepard entrusted her life to? It was an insult. The male human he found in the room full of guns was different, at least. Tall with dark skin and hair, he looked first to Grunt then to Shepard, asking a silent question.

Shepard nodded and the man visibly relaxed, taut musculature releasing. Not that it mattered much against the sheer weight of muscle Grunt carried. "Commander?" the man asked.

"Grunt, this is Jacob Taylor. Jacob, Grunt." The male human stepped forward, right arm outstretched. Grunt clasped the forearm with his own right hand and applied force. Not nearly enough to break anything but enough to make the human feel it. The human replied by increasing the grip of his own hand on Grunt's forearm. A slight tightening of the lips was all the outward sign of the pain this Jacob must be feeling. Humans may be a soft species as a whole but Grunt thought this one might yet prove to be a worthy challenge. Grunt nodded and released the man's arm.

Shepard rolled her eyes, "Why don't the two of you just drop your pants and get out a measuring tape?"

"Ha!" Grunt laughed. "I like you, Shepard."

Jacob chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "What do you need, Commander?" he asked, resisting the urge to massage some life back into his arm.

"We're looking for a shotgun for Grunt," Shepard said. Jacob nodded and picked up one of the new Eviscerator shotguns from the table and offered it to the krogan. Grunt took the weapon, quickly and expertly stripping and reassembling it.

"It lacks weight," he muttered, looking at the gun made smaller by his sheer size.

"You're supposed to shoot people with it, not hit 'em in the head," Shepard answered.

Grunt snorted, "It'll do. What else do you have?"

Shepard selected an assault rifle. "Single shot, three-round burst and full auto," she explained, toggling the fire selector. She looked up at Grunt, a half-smile twisting her lips for a moment, "For when you want to spread the pain."

Grunt nodded as he took the rifle with his free hand, "I like how you think, Shepard. It's almost krogan-like."

The human nodded, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The tank-bred super-soldier lifted a heavily muscled shoulder in a shrug, "Take it however you like, Shepard." Grunt tucked the firearms into mounting points at the rear of his armoured tank-suit and slammed his right fist into the palm of his other hand, eliciting a dull, meaty thud. "When do I get to kill something?"

---

"Yeah! Take it!" Grunt roared, firing the Eviscerator as he advanced on a pair of insect-like Collectors. The shotgun boomed and the specialised ammunition loads tore the aliens apart, spraying blood and scattering body parts. Crouched behind the corner of a colony building, Shepard shook her head, mouthing a curse. "Damn it, Grunt, get to cover!" she yelled into her mike. Lost in battle-lust, it was all too easy for the krogan to ignore the voice in his ear. He charged around the corner, past more of the pods the Collectors were using to carry away the colonists. In the near distance, the defense turrrets pointed impotently into the air; the alien vessel dominated the skyline.

The Collectors were completely without fear - even after so many of their number had fallen they continued to fight and the tank-bred gloried in every up-close encounter. Blood roaring through his veins, Grunt stepped around the side of the building, shotgun barrel traversing in tight arcs. Nothing. "Damn it," he growled over the comm, "I've run out of things to kill!"

As Grunt surveyed the landscape of this world the humans called Horizon, seeking yet more enemies, the blood-red mist that had descended upon him lifted, and in its place was Shepard's voice. And she sounded pissed. Grunt grinned ferociously and pulled back to rejoin the others as ordered.

"Ha!" he said in satisfaction as he took position at the rear of a squad composed of himself, Shepard, the turian and the female called Miranda, "That was a good fight!"

At the head of the squad, Shepard held up a closed fist and the team halted. Shepard turned and strode to Grunt, jabbing a finger into his broad chest. "The next time I give you an order, I expect you to follow it! I won't have you endangering the squad by going off on a killing spree!" Grunt merely looked at the human with some amusement.

"I am krogan. Killing is what I am _for_."

"No," Shepard countered, shaking her head emphatically, "Mindless killing is what varren and vorcha are for. You," she went on, again jabbing her finger into his chest, "Are better than that! Act like it!"

A low growl issued from the krogan as his eyes locked with Shepard's. Though he stood taller than anything else on the battlefield and outweighed her several times over, Shepard refused to back down, calmly holding his gaze, her facial scars glowing dimly in the late-afternoon light.

"You are...correct," he said slowly. Shepard nodded once and signalled the others to move out.

---

The fighting to secure the defense towers while the ship's AI brought them back online was fiercest Grunt had so far encountered in his brief time out of the tank. Moving, fighting, the sounds of gunshots, the pained shrieks of the Collectors, the smell of smoke and death...Shepard had been right; while this wasn't quite a battle to make the galaxy quake with fear, Grunt could feel that such a fight would not be long in coming.

The Collector vessel lit its thrusters and waves of pressure, heat and noise washed over the squad, forcing them to stagger back, eyes slitted against the glare of the white-hot drive flares. Fire from the now-operative defense towers hammered unerringly into the flanks of the alien ship, the guns adding their own discordant notes to the choir of war. As the ship clawed its way free of Horizon's gravity well, Grunt raised the assault rifle to his shoulder and held down the trigger. "Yeah!" he roared, his voice barely audible even to his own ears, "Not so tough now, huh?"

Unnoticed by Grunt, Shepard and Garrus looked first to the krogan, then to each other and shook their heads, bemused. Miranda sighed as she continued to watch the ship recede into the late afternoon sky, shielding her eyes against the glare. Given the number of colony buildings they'd already passed and the strange pods the Collectors had left behind, at least half of the colonists had been abducted. Miranda's thoughts were echoed by the mechanic they had met earlier.

"No!" Delan shouted as he ran into view, "Don't let them get away!"

"I'm sorry," Shepard replied, real emotion evident in her voice, "We did everything we could."

"Half the colony was in there!" the mechanic went on, not hearing or not wanting to hear Shepard's words, "They got Lillith and Sten and...and everybody!"

Grunt stepped forward, stance challenging and aggressive, "Ungrateful human!" he growled, "If it wasn't for Shepard, the _whole_ colony would be gone!"

"Shepard?" Delan replied, rubbing his forehead, "I know that name. Yeah, you're some big Alliance hero."

For Shepard, the inexorable march of time seemed to come to an abrupt halt and awareness of the world around her compressed into a single point as a white-armoured woman entered the tableau.

"Commander Shepard. Captain of the _Normandy_, Saviour of the Citadel," Ashley Williams pronounced.

Delan snorted with obvious disdain, "All the good people we lost and _you_ get left behind. Screw this! I'm done with you Alliance types." The mechanic flung his hands into the air as he walked off.

The moment seemed to stretch out; Shepard stood immobile, mouth suddenly dry, heart pounding, unable to speak. The woman standing before her had been the closest thing she'd ever had to a sister and her dearest friend. To see her now, under these circumstances....

Shepard swallowed and took a breath, unsure of what she should say. "Ash," she half-whispered and swallowed once more. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger, though her heart still thudded in its cage of ribs. "Heard you got promoted to Operations Chief. Congratulations."

Ash's dark eyes narrowed in anger and she stepped forward, as though issuing a challenge, "_That's_ all you can say?" she replied, in an almost-shout, "You come back after two years as though nothing happened? Thinking you were dead...you can't imagine how it felt," Ash went on, voice softer now.

Shepard stepped closer to her old friend, feeling as though the galaxy had tilted on its axis and she was unable to steady herself. "Ash, I never meant for any of this to happen. Most of the last two years I was in some Cerberus facility as they rebuilt me-" Shepard's next words stalled in her throat unsaid, threatening to choke her as a sort of cold fury stole across her friend's features.

"So it's true..." Ash said softly, flicking a glance at Miranda, "You're with Cerberus now." Her gaze shifted to Garrus, "Garrus too. I saw the reports, heard rumours but I didn't believe..."

It was though a white-hot flare suddenly ignited in Shepard's mind. And what she felt was rage. "I'm _not with Cerberus!" _she shouted, the outburst of anger causing the cybernetics beneath her skin to burn like brands. Taken aback, Ash recoiled. Miranda and Garrus exchanged concerned looks while Grunt stepped forward a pace. Part of him really hoped that Shepard would slaughter this upstart.

Shepard spread her arms wide, indicating the nearby colony buildings. "Look around, Ash. There's nobody else here who cares about what's happening. The Alliance won't get involved because they don't see colonies in the Terminus as being part of them. The Council? They tell themselves it's a human problem and don't want to get their hands dirty. For all their faults, at least Cerberus is doing something!"

The Commander's arms fell to her sides and her shoulders slumped as the anger drained from her, leaving in its place a depth of sadness. A gulf had opened between herself and Ash and Shepard didn't know how to close it. Shepard and her almost-forgotten team stood on one side of the gulf, Ash on the other. In reality, only a few short feet separated the former comrades but they may as well have been occupying different planes of existence. Shepard squared her shoulders and, eyes burning with unshed tears, tried once more to reach out to her friend.

"Ash," she began, voice threatening to break, "We trusted each other with our lives once, you were almost like a sister to me. I'm asking you, please trust me now. Come with me, Ash."

Even before Ash began speaking, Shepard knew it was hopeless. The Alliance Marine took a single backward step, shook her head almost imperceptibly. "I can't Commander," she began. Whatever else she had to say was lost in a kind of white noise inside Shepard's own head. Shepard watched as Ash's lips moved but her words were consumed in the crashing surf noise inside Shepard's mind. Ash stopped speaking, turned and walked away. A single tear spilled from Shepard's eye as she called for pick up.


	8. Over the Horizon

**Over the Horizon**

Everybody noticed the change in Shepard as soon as she and the rest of the ground team disembarked from the shuttle. The previously warm and engaging woman had, during the course of the flight from Horizon, pulled away from her crew both emotionally and physically. Feeling completely out of his depth, Garrus attempted to offer comfort and support to her, laying a taloned hand on her arm only to have it shrugged off as they boarded the shuttle. Shepard sat straight-backed on one of the hard and uncomfortable bench seats in the Kodiak's passenger compartment, red-rimmed eyes staring unblinkingly at the bulkhead opposite.

"That went perhaps better than we could have hoped for," Miranda said as the shuttle altered its course, banking towards its rendezvous with the _Normandy_. "The Illusive Man will want to speak with you as soon as we-"

"He can wait," Shepard interjected, voice flat. Miranda opened her mouth to say something more; Shepard turned her face briefly towards her, looking past Garrus and Grunt to Miranda, favouring her with a somehow lifeless expression. "He. Can. Wait." Shepard repeated the words mechanically, before turning back to face the bulkhead. Miranda looked to Garrus for assistance but he shook his head once, mandibles flicking open and shut, a facial expression Miranda took to mean _Leave it._ Miranda nodded and closed her eyes for a moment as she mentally composed her next progress report.

_Shepard's encounter with former team mate Operations Chief Ashley Williams appears to have stirred up negative thoughts and emotions that may be detrimental to overall mission progress..._ At this point, focusing on her job was Miranda knew how to do. She knew how to read people and gauge their motivations and emotions, use those against them, but _being there _for somebody? For all her touchy-feelyness Chambers did have her uses and, for the barest of instances, Miranda found herself envying the young woman's ability to connect with others.

Grunt wondered what all the fuss was about. It had been a good fight. Why wasn't that enough for these people? The enemy had shown their ugly alien faces and had been proven to be the weaker. _Collectors_ _should have brought more guns,_ Grunt mused as the shuttle drew closer to the frigate. _Bigger guns_. The krogan chuckled to himself, earning a flat stare from Shepard.

The Kodiak settled into the spacious cargo hold of the _Normandy _with the gentlest of bumps. The pilot, a former commercial pilot for Qantas Spacelines keyed the intercomm, "This is your captain speaking. We have arrived at our destination. Local time is 1730 hours Alliance Standard Time. Please ensure that your seats are in the upright position and thank you for flying with Cerberus Spaceways."

The Commander, who had always found time to say, _Good flight_ or _Nice landing_ merely strode across the deck, eyes straight ahead until she disappeared into the elevator.

---

"Where the hell's Shepard?" Zaeed asked, carrying his tray to the mess table. The Commander always made a point of having dinner with the crew, which, in Zaeed's eyes, made her a damn sight easier to get on with than that Cerberus woman who tended to treat the ship as though it were her own personal fiefdom.

Seated opposite Zaeed, Jacob shrugged. As a rule, he didn't trust mercs but Zaeed had seen more action than the rest of the crew combined and Jacob had to admit that the man was solid in a firefight. "Scuttlebutt says that Shepard ran into an old team mate down there," Jacob said, pointing his fork at the deck, indicating the world the _Normandy _currently orbited. Under normal circumstances, Shepard would have ordered Joker to depart the system by now but no such orders had been forthcoming. Shepard had simply re-boarded the ship and was last seen outside the door to the observation deck.

To Jacob's surprise, Miranda had not exercised her authority as Shepard's XO and hadn't issued any orders to Joker either. "Whatever went down mustn't have been pretty," Jacob finished.

Zaeed nodded, absently touching a finger to the scarred half of his face. Yeah, he knew a thing or two about running into old team mates. "Heard the fighting was pretty intense," he said, returning his attention to his meal. Such as it was. "You'd think that with all the credits Cerberus spent to hire me, they could have sprung for some decent Goddamn MREs. I swear," Zaeed said, raising his voice to get the attention of the rest of the crew, "I've had better meals stranded behind enemy lines for three weeks. Who wants to hear a story?"

Jacob stifled a groan as Hadley nodded eagerly.

"We were hired to take out a group of pirates by this volus merchant. Prissy little bastard but the pay was good..." Zaeed began.

---

In the bridge, Joker entertained himself coming up with new ways to tweak the nose of the AI. If the AI had an actual physical form. And a nose. "I'm thinking of getting one of those dancing Elvises they sell on the extranet," he said, "You know, the ones that you stick on the dash of your car and it dances around when you hit a bump? I could put it right _here_," the helmsman leaned forward in his seat, pointing to the centre console display.

"Mister Moreau," EDI said, right on cue, "Cerberus protocols regarding workplace personalisation are clear."

Joker nodded, "Yeah, but who's gonna stop me? _You?_ Hey!" he spluttered as his chair began swivelling on its base without any input from himself. "Very funny, EDI. Give me back my chair!" After a final dizzying revolution, the chair rotated back to centre. Joker swallowed, "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Shall I send for a mop and bucket?" EDI enquired. Joker felt certain that, somewhere in the depths of the AI core, she was smirking at his discomfort. The pilot rubbed his face and waited for the spin-induced vertigo to pass. Light footsteps approaching the bridge gave him cause to look up. Joker was completely unsurprised by Kelly's arrival. Shepard's reaction to meeting Williams was off-kilter enough that the _Normandy's_ resident headshrinker would be worried. And that was just from a professional perspective, Joker thought. On a ship as small as this one, with the crew brought closer together than usual by the very nature of the mission, keeping something quiet like the Yeoman harbouring affection for the CO was nigh on impossible.

"I'm worried about the Commander," Kelly said without preamble.

"And I'm sure your concerns are purely professional aren't they, Ms Chambers?" Joker asked, arching an eyebrow.

Brows furrowing over green eyes, Kelly replied, "She's more than just my CO. She's my...friend."

"Look," Joker sighed, "I don't know what you think I can do about it. _You're_ the people person."

"You know her better than anybody else on the ship, Jeff," Kelly said softly. "You were at Virmire and-" Kelly stopped as Joker abruptly turned the chair away from her.

"We don't talk about Virmire," he said stiffly. "It was Ash who helped Shepard through that. And now Ash is gone, too. I...need some space."

Kelly watched helplessly as Joker staggered from the chair and hobbled away, leaving her alone with the cockpit displays and EDI.

Kelly sighed and turned to leave, wondering at her feelings for Shepard. The Illusive Man had selected her for this mission to monitor the emotional wellbeing of the crew in general and Shepard in particular - she wasn't supposed to _fall for Shepard_. Yet she had or was so close to it that it made no difference. It hadn't been as though the former N7 operative had gone out of her way to be extra nice to Kelly, she had simply afforded her and the rest of the Cerberus crew the same respect and courtesy she would have given an Alliance crew and Kelly loved her for it.

Now the ship hung in orbit over a world stripped of half its inhabitants and the only person who had any hope at all of pulling them through this was all but gone. "Ms Chambers?" EDI enquired.

"Yes, EDI?" Kelly replied, struggling to contain herself. She wanted to scream at the bulkheads, to throw something. Grab Shepard and tell her the crew needed her. That _she_ needed her.

"Commander Shepard is currently on the port observation deck. It might be wise if you speak with her."

Kelly nodded and left the bridge. Over her shoulder she told EDI, "Look after Joker, will you, EDI? He might say he's fine but I think he needs a friend."

"Of course, Ms Chambers," EDI replied but she was speaking to empty space.

When Kelly arrived in the mess, Zaeed's war story was in full flight with the crew hanging on every word. Kelly had no doubt that the story, while essentially true, had acquired numerous embellishments over the years. Still, the man knew how to work a crowd and even Jacob appeared to be paying attention. Kelly presented herself at the counter behind which stood Mess Sergeant Gardner.

"Evenin' Miz Chambers, what can I get you?" he asked.

For a moment, Kelly didn't reply, distracted as she was by the reflection of the overhead fluorescent lights in Gardner's bald head. "Nothing for me. Has the Commander been in for dinner yet?"

"Naw," Gardner answered, reaching down beneath the counter, "But I put aside something for her for later." When his hands reappeared, they held a beige-coloured plastic tray covered by an equally beige plastic lid. "Here," he went on, sliding the tray across the counter, "Why don't you try to tempt her out of whatever corner of the ship she's hid herself in?"

Kelly accepted the tray with a smile and a nod, back in the waitressing job she'd had during college. The only thing missing, she reflected as she carried the tray towards the observation deck, were the drunk college guys. Of course, back then, there hadn't been the threat of imminent death at the hands of the Collectors. On balance, Kelly thought she was better off on the _Normandy._

The door leading to the observation deck was closed and the normally green-glowing control panel burned a solid red; Shepard had locked herself in from the inside. Kelly supposed she could have EDI over-ride the door controls but didn't want the Commander to feel as though even the ship were against her. Instead, tray balanced on the palm of her right hand, Kelly pressed the intercom switch with her free hand.

"Yes?" the abject weariness carried in that single word tore at Kelly with an almost physical pain.

"Commander?" she replied, voice soft. "It's Kelly. I brought you something to eat. May I come in?"

A pause of several seconds preceded Shepard's answer, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to just leave it on the floor and go?"

Despite herself, Kelly smiled. "You don't suppose correctly, Commander."

Faint sounds of movement were audible through the speaker as Shepard unlocked the door. The red control panel blinked out and the door slid open, revealing Shepard, still in her hardsuit. Kelly's eyes widened at the officer's appearance - hair in disarray as though Shepard had repeatedly ran her hands through it, or had attempted to pull it out, eyes puffy and red-rimmed. Faint odours from the recent battle on Horizon hung over the Commander like an invisible shroud: smoke, dried perspiration, the hot-metal smell of overtaxed heatsinks. Kelly's gaze flicked downward momentarily, taking in the places where the armour's ablative plates had taken damage.

Wordlessly, Shepard stood aside to let Kelly enter the room and closed the door behind her. Stepping through the doorway, Kelly fully appreciated the view through the observation window that ran the length of the room. The deep blackness of space, the unblinking light of stars and dominating the vista, the world of Horizon. Still holding the tray, Kelly watched as Shepard sat on the deck, hugging her knees to her chest as though she were trying to disappear into herself. The Commander sat still and quiet, staring out at the planet rotating below.

Now that she was here, Kelly was unsure of how to proceed. Say something cliched and banal like, "How are you feeling?" Operating on instinct, Kelly seated herself a few feet from Shepard, laying the tray between them like an offering on an altar. Shepard glanced to her left momentarily as the Yeoman entered her peripheral vision. "Thanks," she said, voice dull as Kelly lifted the lid of the tray.

"Have you eaten yet?" Shepard asked. Kelly's estimation of her commander rose even higher - Shepard was putting her own concerns aside, in favour of her crew's wellbeing. Kelly could only nod and Shepard turned once more to face the world outside.

"She would have filed her report to Alliance brass by now," Shepard said at length. "Ash, I mean. She always was great at her getting her duties squared away." The younger woman remained silent, allowing Shepard to talk things out at her own pace.

"Us girls," Shepard smiled sadly, "We were this...unit. Me, Ash, Tali...." Shepard sighed and Kelly had to clamp down on a sudden, near overwhelming urge to gather Shepard into her arms and just hold her. Hold her and tell her it would be all right. "Liara," Shepard finished. "God I miss her. All of them." Shepard swallowed and Kelly could see she was on the verge of breaking entirely.

The Commander turned her head to face Kelly once more. "You know what the worst part of all _that_ was?" Shepard asked, pointing at the world above which the frigate orbited. Kelly could only shake her head, again feeling that urge, that _need_ to offer Shepard what comfort she could. "It wasn't the Collectors. Though they were pretty horrific. Grunt had fun though," Shepard laughed and shook her head, "It wasn't even the missing colonists. It was the look Ash gave me right at the end, right before she turned and left."

"She practically accused me of selling out humanity and betraying the oath I swore to the Alliance....I'm doing this to _save humanity!"_ Shepard suddenly rose to her feet and once more, Kelly was struck by just how fast the woman was capable of moving. Fearing an outburst, Kelly stood rather more slowly and picked up the still untouched tray of now-cold food, placing it out of harm's way. Shepard stood before the window, placing a hand over Horizon as though she could reach out and touch it. "Why? Why wouldn't she believe me?"

"Sometimes it's difficult for people to accept something as monumental as the Collectors and Reapers," Kelly offered.

Shepard's hand fell away from the window. "That's just it, though. Ash was there when we finally took down Saren, I thought that she, of all people would understand what I'm doing and why." The Commander turned away from the window and Kelly saw fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. "Is it me?" Shepard asked herself in a near-whisper, "Maybe she's right, maybe I _have_ changed and don't even know it."

For an instant, Kelly felt a rare surge of anger, anger directed at this Ash person who had given Shepard cause to doubt not only herself but everything she'd ever stood for. Kelly stepped close to Shepard and placed her hands on the other woman's shoulders. Protocol and regulations be damned, they both needed this. "Commander," Kelly said quietly, "You haven't changed. You haven't," she repeated, gently squeezing Shepard's shoulders and feeling the slightly roughened surface of the hardsuit's armour against the palms of her hands.

"You're still _you_, Commander," Kelly went on with a voice that would brook no argument, "You can't control how other people will react and I won't let you start second-guessing yourself."

Shepard's lips twitched upwards in a small, tired smile, "You won't, huh?"

Kelly shook her head and dropped her arms back to her sides. Kelly looked past Shepard at the panorama beyond the glass, stepped back a pace. "I should go," she said quietly and turned to leave. Stopped as an armoured hand fell on her shoulder. Kelly turned to Shepard once more.

"Thanks for coming, Kelly. And thanks for giving me some time to myself. I still need to get all this straight in my head but what you said made sense." Shepard looked back our the window at Horizon, her face composed into a determined expression with only a hint of sadness and regret in her eyes. "Right," she said and Kelly could only imagine the effort it took to put her personal feelings aside and focus on the mission. "Establish a link to the Illusive Man, I'll tell Joker we're ready to blow this pop stand."

"Very good, Commander," Kelly answered. "What's our next destination?" she asked, falling into step with Shepard, and pausing only long enough to reclaim the Chef's Surprise. The 'surprise' was that nobody had ended up in the medbay with stomach cramps.

"The Citadel. I need to thrash things out with the Council. That and do some grocery shopping," Shepard replied, nodding at the tray in Kelly's hands.

"Amen to that."


	9. Of Hamsters and Quarians

**Citadel**

**Author's Note: **Some reviewers have made requests to include Kasumi in my writings. Here's the thing: I have issues with having to pay to access extra content that should have been included with the game to begin with. Free DLC, not so much. So, fans of Kasumi, sorry to disappoint you but no. On with the show.

---

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you through with that item," the woman behind the customs desk informed the turian traveller.

Mandibles flaring in an affronted gesture, the turian protested, "But this is a ceremonial item of my people!"

"Sir, it has a fifteen centimetre serrated blade," the harried customs woman pointed out.

"You humans are all racist!" the turian declared and stormed off, shouldering his way past Miranda, Jacob, Garrus and Shepard. The latter raised her eyebrows at the heated exchange and cast a worried eye over the armaments carried by herself and her companions including a submachine gun, handgun, shotgun and grenade launcher. And that was just the Commander's personal arsenal.

"Obviously security has tightened somewhat since your last visit, Commander," Miranda said as the group neared the entrance to a C-Sec station through which they could access the rest of Zakera ward.

Shepard halted the group with a raised hand. Turning to Miranda, she said, "They're not going to let us just waltz through a Citadel Security checkpoint carrying all _this."_ Shepard tapped the butt of her sidearm.

Miranda smiled. "Let me worry about that," she replied and departed the group for a quick chat with the customs woman.

Shepard turned to Jacob, "Let me guess, Cerberus has people everywhere?"

Jacob nodded, "More so than you think, Commander."

Miranda approached the customs desk and raised a hand to prevent the woman behind it from having to explain that people couldn't carry weapons into the station for what was probably the hundredth time that hour. Miranda nodded a greeting to the tired-looking woman and, in conversational tones said, "Cousin Fergus sends his regards. He hopes there haven't been too many hassles with the in-laws."

The woman behind the counter nodded once and ran a hand across a control panel. "Some of the extended family have reservations about the new neighbours who've moved in."

Miranda nodded, understanding the reference. _Extended family_ referred to the Council races and _the new neighbours _were humanity, recently granted a seat on the Council due in no small part to Shepard's efforts against Saren and the geth. Obviously not everybody was happy with things, as evidenced by the recently departed turian.

"You can go on through, Miss," the customs woman said. "Have a pleasant day."

Miranda nodded once more and rejoined the others. "We're all set," she assured Shepard.

"Just like that?" Garrus asked, doubt evident in his tone. "You just say a few words and all of C-Sec will disregard four armed people wandering around?" Garrus turned his scarred face to Shepard, mandibles twitching rapidly. "It doesn't concern you that Cerberus has so much influence?"

Shepard led the turian a short distance from Jacob and Miranda and replied in lowered tones, "We don't have much choice, Garrus. You saw what the Collectors did on Horizon and you saw what Sovereign did to the Citadel fleet. The Illusive Man? He's small fry compared to what we're up against. And given the ease with which we seem to find firefights, I'd rather not be wandering around without _Bella morte_," Shepard finished, right hand momentarily closing around the shotgun's pistol grip. Garrus nodded, mandibles flexing in the turian equivalent of a smile.

"_Bella morte,_ Shepard?" he asked as they walked back to the Cerberus operatives.

"Beautiful Death, Garrus. What, you don't name your guns?" Shepard replied, all wide-eyed innocence.

Garrus only shook his head as the quartet passed through the C-Sec checkpoint. This, Garrus knew, would be the true test of Cerberus' reach. The turian sergeant operating the scanners seemed more concerned by the fact that his equipment was insisting one of their number was dead, rather than by the instruments of death they carried.

"Sorry, Ma'am, there seems to be a problem with the equipment," the sergeant said apologetically. "The scanners are saying you're dead."

Shepard laughed, "I was only mostly dead. Trying finding _that_ option in government paperwork."

The sergeant's mandibles flared wide in amusement, "You got that right. Check in with my captain, Ma'am, he'll sort it out."

Garrus stood in the C-Sec office while the human captain named Bailey used an under-the-table fix to re-instate Shepard's credentials. Being back here, on the Citadel, inside a C-Sec station made him feel...wrong. He'd seen so many criminals go free even after he'd followed procedures in arresting them, knowing that they would reoffend once more and cause some poor bastard yet more misery. On more than one occasion, Garrus had been close to slamming his badge and gun down on the Executor's desk and storming out of his office, the very essence of every cop-vid cliche.

Yet, he hadn't. Some hope that things would 'get better' burned stubbornly within him. Of course, things _hadn't _gotten better. Then, Pallin had assigned him to investigate the activities of the Spectre Saren Arterius following the reports coming out of the human colony world of Eden Prime. More red tape. More bureaucratic procedures. More of everything Garrus had come to hate about working for C-Sec. Still, the fates had been kind to him in that his path had crossed Shepard's, giving him what he'd needed - the chance to get out from beneath C-Sec and finally make a real difference.

Garrus observed as the Cerberus operatives conversed in low tones. He still wasn't sure what to make of them. Like most of the _Normandy _crew, Jacob was ex-Alliance, sick of what he liked to refer to as 'Bullshit Alliance politics.' In that respect, Garrus related to the man. Still, he _was _Cerberus and Garrus had seen first-hand the kinds of facilities and experiments Cerberus had run in the past. Miranda on the other hand seemed to wholeheartedly embrace Cerberus' goals and objectives. So far, Garrus had to admit, the working relationship between the Cerberus and 'alien' team members was solid. But if Cerberus pushed Shepard into something she was morally opposed to....how would Shepard react? And would she ask Garrus to go along with whatever she decided?

Garrus trusted Shepard, that much was a given. Shepard trusted Cerberus...to a point. The human saying _The enemy of my enemy is my friend _very definitely applied under the current circumstances. For now, Garrus decided he'd follow Shepard's lead and it wouldn't hurt to keep a few extra concussive rounds on his person should certain people step out of line. As the Commander led her team into the bustling flow of life in Zakera, Garrus made a mental list of who Shepard could trust if things went as badly as he feared they would.

Mordin? The salarian knew of Cerberus' history and its human-centric bias plus he and Shepard had enjoyed many discussions about the salarian's work with the Special Tasks Group. Garrus' criminal-scum-sensing instincts told him that Mordin was a safe bet.

Jack? The very thought of trusting the anti-social, murdering crazy woman was laughable. Shepard raised her eyebrows at the sounds of amusement from Garrus. "What's funny?" she asked.

Garrus shook his head and laughed harder. "I was just trying to decide whether Jack is trustworthy," he said after he'd gotten himself under control.

"Ha!" Shepard laughed before breaking into stream of oddly girlish giggles. Miranda and Jacob eyed the pair silently. "Trust...Jack..." Shepard gasped. "Oh my stars, that _is_ funny."

"If you two are finished, don't we have work to do?" Miranda asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ah Lawsie, you're such a killjoy," Shepard replied airily and Garrus was glad to see she was sounding happier. "All right. I need to meet with Captain...._Councilor_ Anderson and try to convince the Council to pull their heads out of their butt-puckers, as Gardner would say."

"Good luck with _that_," Jacob muttered darkly. Garrus nodded in agreement.

The Commander unsealed the cargo pocket on the thigh of her hardsuit and removed a small datapad. This she offered to Miranda saying, "Here's Gardner's shopping list."

Miranda stared at the device in Shepard's hand. "A shopping list? You want me to do the...shopping?"

A slow, decidedly wicked smile curved Shepard's lips. "Let me rephrase, Operative Lawson. Take the shopping list." Lips pressed so tightly together they all but disappeared, Miranda snatched the datapad from the other woman's hand and strode into the crowd, boot heels clicking rapidly on the metal floor.

Jacob winced, "I really wish you hadn't done that, Commander."

Shepard watched as Miranda skirted her way through the denizens of Zakera, losing sight of her as she neared the markets. "We all have to eat, Jacob. Even Miss Perfect Genes over there. She'll get over it. And besides, I did her a favour. The crew will love her for bringing in some real food."

"Maybe 'love' is too strong a term, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

Jacob shook his head at the situation. "What do you need me to do, Commander?" he asked.

Shepard turned a considering gaze on the man, head tilted to one side. It was a posture Garrus was familiar with. Shepard was about to suggest something that Jacob might find slightly left of centre. "Jacob, stop being so formal. Neither one of us is Alliance military any more. Technically, the _Normandy's_a civilian ship. Albeit one with one hell of a main gun. You and Garrus find a bar somewhere and have a few drinks. On me," Shepard pressed a credit chit into Jacob's hands before he could argue. "Don't make me order you. Either of you," she said firmly, looking to Garrus.

Jacob and Garrus eyed each other steadily for several moments. "Well, what coud it hurt, having a few drinks?" Garrus decided. Jacob nodded. Smiling, Shepard left them to it.

---

_She's about to explode_, Councilor David Anderson thought, taking in the stance of his former XO. The fact that the other three Council members were 'attending' the meeting via hologram rather than allowing Shepard admittance into the Council chambers spoke volumes about their attitudes towards Shepard and the Reapers. These last two years, Anderson had done everything he could to steer the Council towards at least considering the possibility that the Reapers existed, only to be out-voted by the other councilors at every turn. In the two years since Sovereign had attacked the Citadel, only a single team of researchers had been dispatched to Ilos and they had reported that the power source maintaining 'Vigil' was depleted, leaving no proof to support Shepard's version of events on the planet.

Even Anderson had to admit that, without any evidence, it would be difficult to convince outsiders of the true magnitude of the threat posed by Sovereign.

Shepard stood in the human embassy, rubbing her forehead with a gloved hand. "Let me get this straight," she began, and Anderson noted the quiet fury in her low tones. "Just so we're all on the same page here. You're telling me that Sovereign was just some geth warship that Saren just _happened_ to stumble across out in the black?"

"Correct, Commander," the turian replied, "As we attempted _repeatedly_ to explain to you two years ago." _Arrogant bastard_, Anderson thought but didn't say.

"The Reapers are simply a myth, Commander," the salarian put in, "One that we have long since disproved."

"Disproved?" Shepard replied as she paced slowly before the images of the Councilors. "Are you blind or just stupid?"

"Councilor Anderson," the turian snapped, "Commander Shepard walks a very fine line."

"She also happens to speak the truth, Councilor," Anderson's reply was quiet but firm. "I feel that her frustration at this point is completely understandable. She has my full support."

Shepard shot a glance at her former commander, mouthed _Thank you. _Anderson nodded back. "Councilors," Shepard went on, making a visible effort to contain herself, "Even a cursory inspection of Sovereign's remains would reveal a level of technology far beyond what the geth are capable of. And I know from personal experience that a great deal of Sovereign crashed into the Council chambers."

The holographic images of the Council members looked at one another for a few moments; both Shepard and Anderson knew they were preparing to sweep the issue under the proverbial carpet. "Our examinations of the wreckage found no evidence that it was from a sentient machine, as you claim," the salarian said firmly.

The asari continued, "We are more concerned with reports that you are working for Cerberus, an avowed enemy of the Council."

Anderson observed as Shepard ceased pacing, saw the way her shoulders stiffened and her fists tightened. He fancied he could almost hear her knuckles creaking. Shepard's normally fair complexion turned pink as her anger rose. _Here it comes_ Anderson thought.

"_I'm not working for Cerberus!"_ Shepard screamed. _And there it goes_ Anderson smiled to himself. Shepard paused to collect herself and when she spoke again, her voice was calmer but the anger was still evident, "Maybe you three haven't been keeping up with current events, what with the _Destiny Ascension_ swanning around the galaxy on a damn _victory cruise_ but human colonies in the Terminus systems are disappearing. Tens of thousands of people gone and more will follow." Shepard paused, perhaps hoping for some sign that she was getting through to the Council. Shepard shook her head as though to clear it and forged on, "The Alliance is doing nothing, the _Council_ is doing nothing."

The salarian interrupted, "It has been determined that the attacks on these worlds are a human-centric issue and, while we regret the loss of lives, we cannot get involved at this time."

Anderson winced as Shepard laughed bitterly, "Soon enough, you'll be _involved_ whether you want to be or not. Do you honestly think the Collectors and Reapers will confine themselves to regions outside Council space forever?"

"Councilor Anderson," the turian said, ignoring Shepard entirely, "It appears that your former comrade is still obsessed with these imaginary Reapers-"

Shepard strode forward until she was mere inches from the flickering holo-images. The woman once hailed as the Saviour of the Citadel shook her head, expressions of dismay, incredulity and anger fighting for prominence on her face. Eventually, simple weariness won out. "I'm done," she said, voice barely above a whisper. Before any of them could respond, the former Spectre cut the link.

"I can't say I blame you for burning your bridges, Shepard but..." Anderson trailed off, at a loss for words.

Shepard pulled out a chair and sat, looking moodily out at the comings and goings on the Presidium. On the walkways below, people walked leisurely beside the lakes or sat conversing with one another at the fountains. A pink-glowing hanar appeared to be spreading the word about the Enkindlers near the Relay monument. None of them knew they were dancing on the edge of oblivion.

Shepard looked to her old friend "Cerberus is a problem, Anderson, we both know that. But they're the only ones with the resources and the _will_ to to anything. I saw Freedom's Progress, I saw Horizon. I don't know what the Collectors or Reapers want with us but I'll be damned if I let them take any more of our people."

Anderson took a seat alongside Shepard. "I have to say, Shepard, you do look well for a dead woman," he said after a moment. "It's good to have you back, even under these circumstances."

Shepard nodded, "How have you been? Dealing with _them_ can't be too much fun."

Anderson sighed, "I admit there are days when I wish you had recommended Udina over me."

"Yeah," Shepard said. "You should be on the combat deck of an _Everest-_class warship, leading a fleet into dark space. Yet..." Shepard waved a hand at their surroundings.

"Yes," Anderson echoed, "Yet."

---

"So Jacob tell me," Garrus leaned in towards his drinking companion to make himself heard over the club's dance music, "What's the story between you and Miranda?"

"There's no story," Jacob replied after a moment, lifting his empty glass and catching the eye of a bar girl. The young woman took the empty with smile and a wink and was soon back with a fresh glass. Jacob downed half the drink with one swallow.

"No story?" Garrus repeated. "Right. When I worked cases in C-Sec, I got to be very good at knowing when humans weren't telling the truth. You-" Garrus went on, pointing a talon at Jacob, "Are a terrible liar." Garrus finished the last of the greenish liquid in his glass. "Which is to be commended, actually."

"Thanks, I think," Jacob answered. He scanned the interior of the Darkstar Lounge, looking for any signs of trouble. That and Shepard. Miranda had returned from her shopping expedition and shortly thereafter left once more, saying she wanted to check the dead drop points Cerberus used on the Citadel for any new gear.

In an effort to divert the turian's attention away from his past with Miranda, Jacob asked, "How do you think Shepard went with the Council?"

For a moment, Garrus didn't reply, instead pushing the glass back and forth on the table before him. He looked up at the man opposite him. By unspoken mutual agreement, they had chosen a booth at the rear of the establishment to limit the potential for ambushes and to make it easier to keep any eye on the rest of the bar. So far, nobody had paid them the least amount of attention. Except for the young woman who had given Jacob his drink. "I don't expect any help from them," he finally said. "I applied for Spectre training after Saren attacked the Citadel but there was just so much bureaucracy in the way."

Even as Jacob nodded in reply, Miranda's voice sounded in his earpiece. "Jacob? Miranda."

Jacob sat up straighter in his seat. "Go ahead."

"I've just heard from Shepard, the Council's a no-go," Miranda went on.

"Big surprise there," Jacob muttered.

"We're to rendezvous at the transport terminal where we arrived. Shepard said she's been doing some 'retail therapy'," Miranda said and Jacob could hear the eye-roll in her tone. He smiled to himself.

"Got it, we'll be there in ten. Out." Jacob cut the connection and nodded to Garrus, "Council's a dead loss and we're to link up with the others in ten minutes. Let's move." Garrus waited until Jacob had left the booth before following him. As the turian and Cerberus operative passed by a store on their way back to the transit station, a very familiar voice rang out, causing them to stop and crane their heads around to find the source.

_I'm Commander Shepard and this is my favourite store on the Citadel_

Garrus' mandibles flared with amusement and Jacob chuckled to himself. "Someone's been busy," he remarked and started walking again. When they arrived once more outside the C-Sec office, Jacob noticed Miranda standing beside a large metallic grey container sitting on casters. He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "It's something that just came out of R & D," Miranda explained, laying a hand on the top of the container. "The Arc Projector."

"Sounds painful," Shepard opined as she joined the group, holding a large plastic cage in her hand. Inside the cage, a small furry rodent-like creature ran laps inside a wheel.

"What is that?" Miranda demanded, aiming a glare at the cage.

"Space hamster!" Shepard replied enthusiastically. "Isn't he cute? Look at him, running around that little wheel!"

"Tell me you're joking, Shepard," Miranda said, knowing in her heart that she wasn't. Shepard shook her head, still smiling down at the little flea circus. "Just keep the little rodent confined to the cage, then," Miranda ground out.

"Oh, she didn't mean it," the Commander cooed at the hamster. Shepard looked up at her companions. "I also bought some weapon and armour mods, they should be delivered to the ship soon."

"Does he have a name?" Garrus enquired as they proceeded to a waiting transit car.

Shepard looked from the space hamster to Garrus, a gleam of warped amusement in her blue eyes. "Udina," she replied.

---

Haestrom wasn't quite as hot as Hell, it just felt like it, Jack thought as she sprinted across an expanse of sun-drenched ground to Shepard. A heat haze shimmered in the air like a desert mirage waiting to be born and the intense electromagnetic energy from the local star rendered kinetic barrier emitters unstable and prone to failure in direct sunlight.

The Commander had taken cover in a shady area fifty metres away and Jack felt as though her tattooed skin was going to erupt into flames before she slid into cover beside Shepard. _"Fuck_ it's hot!" she swore.

Shepard glanced briefly at her, "Told you to wear a shirt," she said before turning her attention to the battlefield. Shepard herself also looked a little too warm, Jack observed, noting the deepening pink of her skin and the sweat matting her hair to her skull. Elsewhere the turian and salarian had also found cover, the former dropping geth with fire from his sniper rifle and the latter using some piece of tech he'd put together in the lab to freeze the geth solid.

"That's all of them," Garrus sent over the general freq, after the last synthetic had shattered.

Jack wiped sweat from her brow, flicking droplets from her fingertips; the droplets sizzled where they hit the ground, turning into puffs of steam. "This quarian bitch had better be worth it," she muttered. A sudden heavy weight pressed her against bullet-riddled wall she sheltered behind. Shepard loomed over her, pushing her into the wall, fingers digging painfully into her shoulder. Jack grunted, half in pain, half in anger, "Shepard? What the hell?"

Shepard's sun burned face was still for a moment before she replied, "Call Tali a bitch one more time and you and I are going to have problems, Jack. Are we clear?"

In response, Jack raised her right hand and tapped her biotics. "You wanna dance, huh, Shepard?" she spat.

A blue corona of biotic energy came into being around Shepard and Jack felt her skin crawl as it reacted against the conflicting spheres of dark energy. "Save it for the geth, Jack," Shepard said as she released her. Jack glared at the older woman even as she allowed her biotics to die down. Jack watched as Shepard keyed her comm, "Garrus, Mordin fall back to our position. Stay in the shade as much as possible. We have to link up with Reegar if we have any hope of reaching Tali."

"Yes," Mordin's voice replied, "Eager to meet Tali'Zorah and compare theories on current solar irregularities."

"Well, at least _somebody's_ having a good time," Jack griped, again wiping her face. "Fuckin' sun."

---

Jack had to wonder just what the hell Shepard thought she was accomplishing, forcing the quarian marine to stay back. If _she _had been in charge, she'd have sent Kal'Reegar out with his rocket launcher to distract the geth and tell him she'd see him in Hell. Instead Shepard had come over all knight in shining armour, riding in to save the day. Faced with the geth colossus, Shepard and Garrus had grinned at each other for a few moments before saying, "Just like old times," in perfect unison. It made Jack want to shoot somebody.

"What's the plan, Shepard?" Reegar enquired, yelling to be heard over the near-constant gunfire of the geth.

"You stay in cover and try for a shot but only if it's safe. Garrus, I want you to take up a sniping position and thin out their ranks a bit. Mordin, go with him and keep the geth off him." The turian and salarian nodded. "Jack and I will move in close to the colossus and keep the pressure on so it can't repair itself."

"Oh _that_ is bullshit!" Jack argued, "I ain't going toe to toe with a damn colossus, Shepard! We'll be killed!"

Shepard nodded, "Yeah," she said as though to herself, "Miranda thought you might crack under enough pressure. Should have listened to her."

Jack's eyes went wide and a biotic corona flared into existence around her at the mere sound of the cheerleader's name. Jack knew Shepard was employing the most basic reverse psychology on her but she was too angry to care. "Miranda? Fuck her _and_ you! Let's do this!"

Shepard grinned and slapped Jack's shoulder, "Atta girl!" she said, voice perversely cheerful. "OK, on my mark...GO!"

Jack rolled out from behind cover, simultaneously firing her pistol one-handed at an approaching geth trooper and biotically pulling a small squad of geth into the air with the other. Shepard was right beside her, aglow with energy as her warp field interacted with the mass-lowering field levitating the geth and tearing them apart. The air was filled with high-pitched electronic shrieks and white geth 'blood' flooded the immediate area. "Sheee-it" Jack breathed, impressed despite herself.

The distraction provided by the biotics gave Garrus and Mordin enough time to find a good sniper perch and Garrus soon added the distinctive note of his rifle to the symphony of battle. Mordin's handheld incinerator and SMG prevented the geth from pushing too close.

As they moved from cover to cover, Shepard stowed her shotgun in favour of the arc projector. Ahead of them, the colossus swung its head-mounted mass accelerator in their direction as a squad of geth moved out to cover it. A shot from Garrus distracted the quadruped geth as Shepard deployed the arc projector for the first time in battlefield conditions. A bolt of man-made lightning leaped from the weapon, arcing among the geth troopers for several seconds, electrocuting them and destroying their neural nets. The four geth dropped, still sparking.

"Damn, Shepard, that thing is _nasty!" _Jack gasped as a second bolt overloaded the kinetic barriers of the colossus. More sniper fire from Garrus blew holes through layers of armour. A rocket courtesy of Kal'Reegar flew across the battlefield, trailing grey smoke and detonating against the geth where its 'neck' joined the rest of the body, blasting away armour and revealing bundles of synthetic muscles and control cables. Gripping her pistol with both hands, Jack burned through two thermal clips, aiming her shots at the exposed innards of the geth. Muscles and wires snapped and fluids gouted out as the synthetic collapsed on itself, the internal structure too damaged to support its own weight.

Dropping the pistol, Jack swung her shotgun around and stalked her way to the fallen geth, stepping over the remains of the four Shepard had killed. The colossus' blue-glowing flashlight head attempted to rise from the ground as Jack jammed the shotgun barrel against the optical cluster. "Eat this," she snarled and pulled the trigger.

---

"Shepard? It's so good to see you again!" Tali greeted her old friend in the battle's aftermath. Her helmeted head turned towards Garrus and behind her visor, her eyes widened in shock at his appearance, "Keelah, what happened to you, Garrus? You look terrible."

"I missed you, too," Garrus replied, shaking his head.

"Garrus thought it might be fun to take on a mercenary gunship all by himself," Shepard deadpanned and despite everything, despite the loss of so many people, Tali couldn't help but laugh. It had been over two years since the last time the three of them were together like this and it was like none of them had left. Shepard introduced Tali to the rest of her squad, an extremely animated salarian and a scowling tattooed woman. Tali looked from one to the other and then to Shepard. "It's a long story, Tali," the human answered.

Tali stepped closer to Shepard and winced at the dark pink of her face. "That's going to hurt tomorrow," she observed.

Shepard nodded, "Should have remembered to pack the SPF 3000 sunblock." Shepard sighed, "Chakwas is gonna be pissed."

"Not that I'm not glad you're here, but what _are _you doing out here?" Tali asked. It didn't seem likely that Shepard just happened to be in an area of geth-controlled space at the same time Tali and her team were.

"You remember Freedom's Progress? How the colony was completely empty?" Shepard asked.

Tali nodded, "Of course."

"Turns out they were taken by the Collectors. We don't know why."

"Collectors? I didn't think they actually existed," Tali gasped.

Shepard continued, "And it gets worse." Behind her visor, Tali's eyes widened and Shepard nodded, "Oh yeah. The Collectors are in league with the Reapers."

"Keelah..." Tali's voice was a whisper.

"We could really use your help, Tali," Shepard concluded. "I know you have your own mission but..."

"As soon as I forward this information to the Admiralty Board, I'll be able to join you, Shepard."

"Forgive the interruption," Mordin interjected and stepping in between Shepard and Tali, "But must know your theories on condition of Haestrom's sun."

Tali looked at Shepard who nodded. "Well, I'm no scientist but the readings we gathered show a marked increase in dark energy, see?" Tali activated her omni-tool and angled it so Mordin could see the data. The salarian nodded rapidly, eyes darting left to right as he took in the information.

"Dark energy. Yes. Makes sense. Possible Collector-Reaper connection. Saw similiar readings in data from Freedom's Progress. Not nearly as high of course but there."

"Wait, wait," Reegar said. "You're saying the Reapers are doing this to the sun?"

"Well that's just fuckin' great," Jack swore from where she slouched in the corner.

Mordin shook his head. "Impossible to say without much more study. Require more data, more tests. Less interruption from geth preferable."

Gently applying medi-gel to her face, Shepard said, "That's all very interesting, Mordin but I'd like to be out of the system before more geth arrive. Reegar, do you require transportation?"

The quarian shook his head, "The geth didn't damage our ship." Turning to Tali, Reegar went on, "Ma'am, I'll make sure the Admirals get the data. It sounds like you and your captain have bigger issues to deal with."

"That's what it sounds like," Tali agreed. "I'm sorry about the rest of your squad, Reegar."

"Wasn't your fault, Ma'am. Shepard, it was an honour to have fought alongside you."

Shepard gripped the quarian's hand, "You too, Reegar." Shepard released his arm and stood between Tali and Garrus, watching as the quarian marine limped away.

For a few moments, the three stood inside the quarian building. Shepard looped an arm around Garrus' waist and the other around Tali's, pulling them close. Garrus and Tali each put an arm around Shepard. Despite everything that had happened, they were each able to draw comfort from the others.

Just like old times.


	10. The Justicar & The Assassin

**The Justicar and the Assassin**

For the last four hundred years, Samara had pursued her quarry across the galaxy and on more than one occasion, had come close to cornering her only to see her slip away once more. Here, on Ilium, Samara had once again found the trail and knew this was perhaps the final chance she would have to complete her quest. Events had taken an unexpected turn with the arrival of the human, Shepard and her companions. The Code Samara lived by compelled her to surrender herself to Ilium law enforcement for twenty-four hours and Shepard had agreed to look for signs of Morinth in Samara's stead.

Normally, the asari was loath to involve outsiders in something so personal but Samara saw that she had little choice. Perhaps destiny had brought her path and Shepard's together. Or perhaps it was merely coincidence.

As she sat meditating in the police station, Samara's thoughts turned to the human and her team, a motley collection of various beings. Three of their number, a quarian, turian and Shepard herself moved and acted as one, each trusting the other implicitly. Together, they were made stronger whereas apart, each would be lessened. The justicar wondered what events and trials had shaped the three both as individuals and as a whole. The last member of the group accompanying Shepard, a tall dark haired human woman, held herself apart from the rest as though she was unused to trusting others. This last member of the group was also possessed of a strong aura - that of a person used to leading. That she followed another was testament to Shepard's will and strength of character.

Samara offered a brief prayer to the Goddess, that Shepard would find what was required before the twenty-four hours expired. The detective investigating the murder of the volus merchant would want to detain her longer but Samara's Code was clear: she would do what was necessary to accomplish her goal and if her hand were forced, many innocents would die.

Samara continued to wait and meditate.

Detective Anaya cast a nervous glance at the justicar. Things were bad enough in her district with the Eclipse Sisters controlling the back alleys that the presence of a justicar was an added complication she really didn't need. Without opening her eyes or showing any outward sign that she knew Anaya was watching her, the justicar said, "Be not afraid, Detective. I believe that our faith in the human is well-placed."

"I hope you'll understand if I don't share your optimism, Justicar," Anaya replied. Before returning to the report she was compiling, Anaya sent up her own little prayer to Athame.

---

The Eclipse Sisters were skilled, Miranda had to admit but the squad made short work of anything it encountered. Shepard, Garrus and Tali moved and fought with an almost choreographed and balletic grace and, observing the shared camaraderie the three enjoyed during moments of down-time, Miranda felt envious of the bond they shared. _Enough_ she told herself. _Focus on the operation. _But it was becoming increasingly difficult - Miranda felt as though her skills and abilities were superfluous to requirements. Shepard possessed biotic abilities rivalling her own, and the combined technical prowess of Tali and Garrus coupled with the turian's sniper skills ensured that the three of them could handle anything the enemy threw at them.

_Oh stop wallowing, you stupid girl_ Miranda scolded herself. _Remember why you're here in the first place - without Project Lazarus, YOUR project, Shepard wouldn't even be alive. _Shepard, it always came back to Shepard. At the rear of the squad, Miranda bit down on her lip in frustration, double-checking her machine-pistol's heatsink. Ahead, Shepard raised a clenched fist, signalling them to halt. The Commander sidled to the closed door of what appeared to be a storage unit. Faintly audible from inside came a youthful-sounding voice.

"Oh please don't let them find me. If they _do_ find me, please don't let them shoot me!"

With quick hand gestures, Shepard ordered the squad to stack up to the left of the door, taking a position at the head of the formation. Standing behind Tali, Miranda observed as Shepard palmed the release for the door and slipped inside, shotgun at the ready. The inside of the storage space was dimly lit. Large metallic crates filled half the floor space. The praying ceased the moment the door opened. Head tilted to one side, Shepard pointed to the rear of the stack of crates as something behind them shifted slightly.

"Come out," Shepard said, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from behind the crates, "We know you're there."

A slender asari clad in a hardsuit bearing Eclipse livery emerged from behind the crates, hands in the air, noticeably rattled by her four armed visitors. "I'm not Eclipse!" the asari said in a rush, "I only pretended to fire my gun but I didn't shoot once! I thought being Elnora the Mercenary would be cool..."

Elnora's voice trailed off as she absorbed the disbelieving expressions of the people before her.

Lips twisted in a parody of amusement, Shepard replied, "Just how stupid do you think we are, sweetheart? We asked around about the Eclipse Sisters. Apparently, every member of the Eclipse is a killer and they have to commit a murder to earn the uniform," Shepard lifted the muzzle of the shotgun, indicating the emblem on the asari's breastplate. "Now, judging by your incredibly nervous disposition and the near-spotless state of your armour, I'm going to assume you're very new to this." Without breaking eye contact with Elnora, Shepard asked, "What do you think, Garrus? Newbie merc, a volus merchant killed just last night. I think we've found the killer."

Garrus nodded, renewing the grip on his rifle, "I think you're right, Shepard."

The asari's demeanour changed instantly, from scared to aggressive. Elnora snatched up the SMG at her hip and swung it at Shepard's head faster than anybody could move. The SMG emitted a series of dry clicks followed by the high-pitched _bleep _of an over-stressed heatsink. Miranda looked on, eyes wide as Shepard dropped the shotgun and snatched the SMG from the asari's hand. With an amused smirk, Shepard ejected the spent thermal clip and held it up. "Well _there's_ your problem!"

"Turn around," Garrus instructed. "Very slowly." Once Elnora had done so, he added, "Lace your hands together behind your head."

"I don't suppose anybody remembered to bring some restraints?" Shepard asked, still smiling.

---

The quiet hum of the police station was disturbed with the arrival of the human and her companions. Anaya looked up from her computer, wondering who else Shepard had managed to collar. A spectacularly irate Elnora had only recently arrived in the company of two uniformed officers and Anaya had ordered her into the cells under armed guard until the business with the Justicar was finalised and she could question her.

As the armed quartet entered the station, Samara stood from where she had been sitting meditating at a vacant desk and dropped smoothly to the floor. Anaya stood also to meet Shepard and her companions. "Did you manage to find the name of the ship the Justicar was searching for?" Anaya managed to keep her voice even as she asked the question. Shepard nodded, tucking an errant lock of hair behind one ear. "How's Elnora the Mercenary?" she asked.

"My lawyers will sue the pants off you, bitch!" a voice screamed from the cells.

Anaya shrugged, "She's fine. Good work bringing her in, by the way. My superiors will be pleased we found the killer so quickly."

"Shepard," the Justicar stepped forward, entering the conversation, "I believe you have found something?"

The former N7 operative nodded and handed Samara a datapad found in the possession of the now-deceased leader of the local Eclipse gang. For a moment as Samara met her eyes, Shepard felt as though she were staring into a timeless abyss and forced herself to look away. "The Eclipse arranged passage off-world for the fugitive on the _AML Demeter_ but there is no record of its destination," Shepard explained, averting her eyes.

Samara nodded, face carefully neutral, giving no sign of the emotions she felt - she was still so close. "You impress me, Shepard. You have fulfilled your part of our bargain and I shall fulfill mine - I will pledge myself to your service until your mission is complete."

The asari knelt on the scuffed floor, biotic corona swirling around her and spoke softly, "Shepard, I pledge myself to you service. Your path is my path, your goals are my goals, your morals are my Code."

Samara stood once more, the flow of dark energy fading. For several moments, silence reigned in the station before Garrus said, "That's quite an oath."

The Justicar nodded, a trace of a smile on her lips. "Of course, if you order me to do something extremely dishonourable, I will be forced to kill you once my oath to you expires."

Shepard swallowed around a dry mouth. "Is it true that a Justicar will begin shooting if she smells even a hint of corruption?"

As the party, its number increased by one, exited the station, Samara said, "Though such tales carry great amounts of exaggeration, at their heart lies a core of truth, yes."

Shepard nodded and excused herself, walking rapidly away from the others. When she judged herself out of earshot, she opened a comm line to the _Normandy_.

"Commander?" Joker answered.

"Joker, patch me through to Engineering," Shepard spoke rapidly. She was probably over-reacting. Probably.

"Uh...sure thing," Joker replied, voice betraying a hint of unease. For a moment, Shepard listened to dead air before Kenneth's Scottish accent flowed into her earpiece.

"Commander, what cannae do for you?" Kenneth enquired.

"Kenneth, listen very carefully," Shepard hissed, looking over her shoulder. Samara seemed to be in conversation with Miranda but met Shepard's eyes as though aware she was being watched. Shepard hurriedly looked away. "I need you to dismantle the bootleg alcohol still you've set up down there."

Kenneth managed to keep the shock out of his tone, "Why Commander, I'm sure I have no idea what you're referrin' to."

"Personally I don't care if you want to get blind-drunk on hundred-proof rocket fuel, but we've just recruited an asari Justicar and they have a reputation for....taking issue with things they view as illegal. They're not known for seeing shades of grey, Kenneth."

A long pause followed this last statement as Kenneth digested the information. Finally he replied, "Well, let's just say that _if_ there were any such alcohol still aboard this vessel and I'm not saying there _is_ but if there were then you can rest assured that it would be completely dismantled by the time ye got back, Commander."

Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Kenneth. I'd really hate to explain to The Man how one of my crew killed the engineering staff." Shepard clicked off, smiling as she imagined the look on Kenneth's face.

---

He will always remember the first time he met the woman the vids once referred to as the Savior of The Citadel. Drell have perfect memory, he will later tell her, when she visits him in the frigate's life support hub.

_He observes Nassana and her personal guard from a position in the penthouse's false ceiling. "So," Nassana says, pacing back and forth beneath him, "First you killed my sister and now you've come for me."_

_A voice replies from elsewhere in the room. His keen senses place the speaker - a human woman - and her team near the centre of the room. The woman laughs softly. She sounds genuinely amused. "As I recall, Nassana, it was you who manipulated me into killing your sister. I'm not here for you in any case."_

_"Who sent you?" Nassana persists. "Whatever they're paying you, I'll double it."_

_"Oh, I think you'll meet him soon enough," the human replies. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she's smiling. Taking this as his cue, he drops silently to the floor, snaps the neck of the nearest guard and guns down two more in the space of half a dozen heartbeats. Nassana sees him, too late, gasps "Who-?" as he hugs her to him in an almost tender gesture, pressing the muzzle of his sidearm over her heart. He fires once more. Her body jerks. With reverence, he lays he her down upon her desk. Blue blood spreads rapidly from the bullet wound, staining his hands as he folds her arms over her chest._

_This whole time he is aware of the human and her companions, his mind flawlessly committing the placement of each one to memory. She stands flanked by a krogan on her left and a turian on her right. Standing behind and between the human and turian is a slender quarian. On his knees, he offers up prayers for the wicked. "Not for her," he tells them soon after. "For me."_

---

"Gee, Commander," Joker quipped, "Another dangerous alien! Thanks! Did you get them all at the same store or something?"

"Yes," Shepard deadpanned, "There was a two-for-one special at Nos Astra. Couldn't pass it up." Freshly showered after ensuring Thane and Samara were comfortably settled, Shepard began her usual tour of the ship. Ilium had left the Spectre....drained.

"So, I heard you ran into Liara?" Joker asked, unsubtly changing the direction of the conversation. Shepard sighed and slumped against the bulkhead beside him. Liara...Ash's anger on Horizon had been bad enough. Liara's abrupt and cold manner, her obsession with bringing down the Shadow Broker had left Shepard stunned and saddened. It was yet another reminder that everything had changed while Shepard had been 'away.'

"You know this is meant to be Chambers' job?" Shepard said with forced levity, "Talking me through things, I mean."

Joker ran nimble fingers over the controls, prepping the craft for departure. "Who said anything about talking you through it? I'm more interested in whether you and Liara had to time to _you know_."

The helmsman winced as Shepard leaned over and gently swatted the back of his head, knocking his flight cap askew. As he repositioned it, she replied, "You want the unvarnished truth, Jeff?"

"Yes please!"

Shepard shook her head, eyes unfocused, "We hugged. We kissed. A lot. I kinda went crazy and had her halfway on her desk-"

"Whoa!" Joker held up his hands in surrender. "OK...that's enough. Geez."

Despite herself, Shepard laughed, "You asked for it. Besides, some of your extranet bookmarks....hanar tentacle porn, Moreau?"

Joker's face turned pink with embarrasment, "I was curious!" he blurted. "Anyway, don't turn this back on me. Seriously, Shepard, how were things?"

"Weird. Liara sounded like...a pod person version of herself, you know?"

Joker shook his head. Shepard sighed, struggling to find the right words. "When we walked into her office, she was speaking to somebody via hologram. And she sounded so much like her mother, it gave me goosebumps."

"Damn," Joker replied, "Shy little Dr T'soni managed to rattle big scary Commander Shepard?"

Shepard cleared her throat, ensuring she had the helmsman's undivided attention. "_Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have. I'll make it simple. Pay what you owe me or I'll flay you alive. With my mind."_

"OK, yeah," Joker nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, "Coming from Liara, that's kinda creepy."

The Commander pushed off from the bulkhead, prepatory to leaving the bridge. She nodded out the cockpit windows to the bustling metropolis of Nos Astra where the ship was currently docked. "How soon can we leave? I'm suddenly struck by the burning desire to be elsewhere." Even as the question hung in the air, the docking clamps detached from the hull of the _Normandy_, sending dull reverberations throughout the frigate. Joker smirked at her as the ship vectored away from the city, angling for the stars.

"Smartass," Shepard said as they left Ilium behind.

**Author's Note: **Liara as a pod person is courtesy of vshard.


	11. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

Shepard was literally incandescent with rage, Kelly noted with growing dismay and not a little fear. The scarring in the Commander's face, until now healing steadily, had flared, burning with a hard amber light almost exactly matching that of the cockpit displays. Even as the frigate left the 'crippled' Collector vessel behind, Shepard emerged from the elevator onto the combat deck, still armoured. Her green eyes wide with concern, Kelly saw where parts of Shepard's hardsuit had been damaged. In most places, the damage was superficial, ceramic plates cracked or partially melted where they had prevented a mass accelerated projectile or particle weapon from fully breaching the armour.

Yet Shepard had not escaped the Collector trap unscathed; blood slowly oozed from between two interlocking pieces of her hardsuit's chestplate, an area protecting the ribs. _Oh God, she's hurt!_ Kelly's hands gripped the sides of her station; it was all she could do not to rush to to Shepard's side and check to see if she was all right.

Voice more a guttural growl than her normal tones, Shepard snapped at Kelly, "Set up a link with The Man and get Lawson and Taylor in the debriefing room." Kelly flinched at the harshness of Shepard's delivery but did as she was ordered. When she looked up from her console, Kelly noted with some relief that the warlike avatar Shepard had become was gone.

"Someone's about to cop an earful," Hadley muttered after Shepard had left.

At the station beside his, Matthews nodded. "Hell," he replied, "Even _I'm_ pissed off at how things happened. Shepard almost died in there. Lawson too."

In the debriefing room, an uncharacteristically edgy Miranda paced the length of the room, waiting for Shepard. "He wouldn't set us up like that," she told herself repeatedly. "He just_ wouldn't"_

Jacob looked up as the door slid open with a hiss and Shepard entered the room. She was just in time to hear Miranda's last statement. "Are you brain damaged, Lawson?" she almost shouted. Miranda spun on her heel, hair flying about her face. Jacob remained silent; he had a few choice things to say to the Illusive Man himself but was content for now for Shepard to take the floor.

Miranda and Shepard stared hard at each other for several long moments. A grimace of pain flickered across Miranda's face for a moment and was gone. Under fire from a Collector's particle beam, her kinetic barrier had collapsed, the beam inflicting moderate burns to her left side. Medi-gel had removed the worst of the pain but it lingered still. Before Miranda could answer, Shepard pressed on, "He knew damn well the ship wasn't what it seemed. A simple heads up, Lawson, would that have been too much to ask? _By the way, the ship is likely a trap, be careful._"

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest, feeling defensive and off-balance. "He _must_ have had a reason," she persisted.

Jacob raised his hands, "Maybe we should talk to him first, see what the deal is?" he suggested.

Shepard nodded curtly. "Chambers?" she said into the intercomm.

"Commander?" the young woman replied instantly, voice professional.

"Patch us through."

The table at the centre of the room sank into the floor as the holographic image of the Illusive Man flickered into being. A line of static rippled across the image before it stabilised. If the head of Cerberus was surprised to see Miranda and Jacob alongside Shepard, he did not show it. Instead he raised the ever-present cigarette to his lips and drew deeply on the smoke.

"I imagine you have some questions regarding events on the Collector vessel?" he began.

Even as Shepard opened her mouth, Jacob felt compelled to step forward. "You're damn right we have questions!" he spat. "What the hell are you playing at, you knew that ship was a trap!"

"I see your crew stands united behind you, Shepard," the Illusive Man said dryly, tapping the cigarette into an ashtray. "Yes, I was aware that the ship was a trap but I was confident of your abilities to handle it. And you did."

Shepard took control of the discussion, "Don't try to sweet talk me. You say I'm important to the survival of humanity, you sank over four billion credits into me yet you don't trust me enough to be straight with me?" Shepard indicated the Cerberus operatives, "Or even your own people?"

"Shepard...has a point, sir," Miranda said guardedly, entering the conversation for the first time. Shepard's eyes widened with surprise and even Jacob looked stunned.

"Does she?" the hologram replied. "We needed the data from that ship to establish precisely where the Collector homeworld is and this data also confirmed our assumptions that Collector vessels use a specialised IFF to pass safely through the Omega-4 relay."

Shepard waved a hand irritably. "Fine, I don't really give a damn about that but you have to start trusting me - us - with this sort of information."

The Illusive Man appeared to consider this. "The Collectors needed to believe they had the upper hand. If there was any other way of doing things, I would have informed you."

Jacob could tell Shepard was only slightly mollified by the Illusive Man's words and Miranda's bearing suggested she didn't much like the ways in which the operation was progressing. Jacob stood listening attentively as the Cerberus head outlined the next phase of the so-called 'suicide mission' - boarding a derelict Reaper and salvaging the IFF for use with the _Normandy._ Shepard exchanged glances with the Cerberus personnel before addressing the Illusive Man. Jacob's features revealed almost nothing of his thoughts, Miranda's even less so.

The Commander uttered a low chuckle, utterly devoid of humour, "Another 'derelict' ship? I only believe you because I doubt you'd repeat yourself so soon."

"You may question my motivations as much as you like, Shepard, but the truth is we need that IFF if we're to find a way-"

Shepard cut him off with a raised hand. "Enough with the _we_ already. You aren't the one being played like a violin out here. I know my job. My crew," Shepard nodded at Jacob and Miranda, "Know their jobs. We'll get it done." With that, Shepard cut the link.

One by one, those team members Shepard believed she could trust entered the captain's cabin. Tali arrived first, bearing witness to Shepard gently scratching the space hamster beneath the chin before placing him back in his enclosure. The fish tank, Tali noticed, was still empty of fish.

The quarian tech specialist wondered what this meeting was about but guessed it had something to do with the mission to the Collector vessel. Tali had never seen Shepard so angry before and was glad the Spectre's rage had not been directed at her.

Though she hadn't been part of the team accompanying Shepard, Tali's expertise had been required to fend off an attempt to breach the AI's firewalls and corrupt the _Normandy's _systems. The young quarian was doubly incensed - it was bad enough that _bosh'tet_ the Illusive Man appeared to have played Shepard for a fool but a _hacking_ _attempt _on the frigate's systems? Tali'Zorah had taken that as an affront to her personal honour.

"Shepard," Tali greeted the woman, "How are you feeling?"

"Tali, glad you're here. I'm fine, hardsuit took the worst of it," Shepard replied and gestured for Tali to sit. As she waited for the others to arrive, Tali studied Shepard's cabin. This was so different to life on the quarian Flotilla, she marvelled. With so many people and so few resources, even the ship captains could not claim so much space for themselves. Aboard a quarian vessel, Shepard's cabin would accommodate two adults and a child, with the rest of the area used for storage. Still, Tali could not begrudge Shepard this oasis.

The cabin door slid open, admitting Garrus and Mordin into the room. Tali's eyes narrowed in thought - what was Shepard planning? With the door closed once more, Shepard addressed the AI. "EDI, activate privacy filters."

"Filters activated, Shepard," the AI replied. "Enjoy yourselves," it added. Tali thought she detected a hint of sardonic humour in the AI's synthesised inflections.

"What was that about?" Tali enquired.

With a half-smile, Shepard explained, "The filters are so the commanding officer can...enjoy certain privileges without the AI logging them."

"In other words," Garrus weighed in, "The AI thinks we're all up here to take part in a cross-species orgy? Joker's going to love this."

"Keelah!" Tali gasped, shocked at the idea.

"Wise to limit exposure of such things," Mordin put in, "Could damage crew morale otherwise. Curious as to true purpose of gathering, Shepard."

Shepard held her hand up, forestalling any further discussion. "First, I want to make sure the room is clear of any bugs. Mordin?"

The salarian nodded and activated his omni-tool. Slowly he turned in a circle, sweeping the room with his own customised scanning algorithms. A sharp beep indicated the presence of no less than five surveillance devices. One each in the fish tank, armour locker, private terminal and two more in the ceiling panels.

"Five bugs located," he announced, "Can suggest numerous means with which to deactivate them, feed false data to Cerberus or-"

Shepard sighed, "Just jam 'em for now."

"Of course," Mordin nodded, tapping a series of commands into the omni-tool. The device flashed green. "Surveillance devices neutralised."

"All right," Shepard announced when everybody had seated themselves. "Here's how things are: we're close to the end of this and after what happened with the Collector ship, I trust The Man about as far as I can throw a piano."

Tali and the others nodded in agreement though the quarian wondered how musical instruments came into the equation.

Shepard continued, "I don't trust Lawson not to shaft us if she receives any such directive from her boss. Jacob....he's never trusted the Illusive Man but he still believes in Cerberus' long-term goals. The rest of the crew...I honestly don't know where they'll stand if we're forced to cut ties with Cerberus. Could be we'll have a mutiny on our hands." Shepard shrugged. "I'll worry about that if it becomes an issue. For now..." she paused to look each of the others in the eye, "I need to know if I can count on your support if things go badly wrong."

Tali and the others nodded silently. "Realise that stopping Collector threat requires certain compromises but not willing to compromise own self, Shepard," Mordin said, speaking both for himself and all of them.

"I'm with you no matter what happens, Shepard," Garrus assured her.

"Me too. I could never have completed my Pilgrimage without your help...I may not even be alive now if it weren't for you stopping those assassins on the Citadel," Tali added her voice to the chorus of support.

"What of other team members?" Mordin enquired. "Grunt, Zaeed?"

Shepard smiled, " Grunt strikes me as a straight-forward fighter. I trust him not to sell me out but I want to keep this between us for the moment. The same is true of Samara and Thane. We don't know either of them well enough to know where they'll stand."

"Samara _did _swear an oath to you personally," Garrus reminded the Commander.

Mordin bobbed his head up and down. "Yes. Vow of Justicar absolute. Samara would not break oath lightly."

"As I said, we'll keep this between us for the moment," the Commander emphasised. When the others acquiesced, she rose, signalling that the meeting had come to a close. "Dismissed," she said softly. Smiling, she added, "If anybody asks what you were all doing up here...make something up."

With great difficulty, Kelly managed to keep her expression neutral and her emotions in check. The shipboard rumour-mill was clattering like a YMIR with mis-aligned servos. The Commander, the turian, quarian and salarian all in her cabin _at the same time! _The Yeoman buried herself in work, struggling not to hear the whispered innuendoes and comments like _I had no idea Shepard was into that kind of thing._

"She's a grown woman, she can behave in whatever manner she wishes," Kelly told herself. So why did the thought of Shepard...doing that discomfort her so?

The elevator opened and Kelly's already-straight back stiffened further. Without looking around, Kelly knew from the clicking of talons on the deck that it was Garrus. Garrus returning from....Kelly swallowed. "She's a grown woman," she said again, "She can behave in whatever manner she wishes."

The clicking paused. "Is something wrong?" Garrus enquired.

Motions stiff, Kelly turned to face the turian. Was it possible to know just by looking into his eyes if he and she had...Kelly shook her head, "No, nothing wrong." Garrus held her gaze for several moments before nodding and moving aft. Shortly after, the elevator opened a second and then a third time. Kelly felt an almost-physical pain in her breast as first Mordin then Tali exited.

"Tali!" Kelly reached out to the quarian. Tali turned to face the young woman, expression invisible behind her reinforced visor. Only her eyes and a hint of her nose were distinguishable through the the faceplate. "Tali," she said again and paused. Kelly swallowed, felt a pulse thudding at her temples. "Did you...enjoy your meeting with Commander Shepard?" she finally managed to get out, almost choking on the words.

"Oh...yes," Tali answered after a moment. "We were just talking about old times. Garrus, Shepard and I."

Kelly folded her arms. "What about Mordin?" she countered, voice flat, accusatory.

Tali sighed. "I know it's difficult to believe but it's not what you're thinking, Ms Chambers. I can't say anything else but please...trust Shepard."

Kelly watched helplessly as Tali turned away.


	12. Confessions

**Author's Note: **I realised this story is becoming too much like a 'novelisation' for my liking. We've all played the game, we all know how it goes. Here I attempt something different.

**Confessions**

Tali'Zorah stood at her station on the engineering deck contemplating recent events as her fingers typed commands into the console. The ambush on the Collector vessel, the series of personal missions Shepard had undertaken on behalf of her team, including a rendezvous with the Flotilla to answer charges of treason levelled at Tali herself. Tali closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. Finding her father the way they had....discovering that he had been the one responsible for the deaths aboard the _Alarei_....Shepard had suppressed that information and instead spoken passionately in support of Tali's contributions to the quarian people and her aid during the war against the geth.

The Admiralty Board had found Tail not guilty and she would have collapsed to the deck with relief had Shepard not caught her. In recent times, the woman once hailed as the Savior of the Citadel had lent her support to her entire crew.

But for all her focus on the welfare of her ground team, Tali thought Shepard was overlooking a potential issue with a member of the shipboard crew.

Turning towards Kenneth and Gabby - good people and skilled - Tali said, "There's something I have to discuss with Shepard. Are you OK to keep an eye on things down here?"

"Don't worry your wee head, lass," Kenneth answered, "There's nowt to worry aboot."

Tali stared hard at Kenneth for a moment as her translation protocol struggled to interpret what the man had just said. Gabby raised her hand, "He means don't worry, everything's fine." Tali nodded silently and left for the elevator.

"What d'you think she looks like under that suit, Gabby?"

"Shhh! She'll hear you!"

As the elevator doors closed out the bantering of the engineers, Tali couldn't help but laugh. Cerberus or not, they were good people and Tali found herself slowly warming towards Jacob. Miranda not so much. Tali exited the elevator on the combat deck, expecting to see Shepard at her usual post by the galaxy map but she wasn't there. Tali turned her attention to Shepard's assistant. "Ms Chambers?"

The young woman turned to Tali with a smile. Tali often wondered how such a vibrant, friendly person had come to work for an organisation like Cerberus. "Tali! How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. I was actually looking for Shepard."

"The Commander is in the armory working on her hardsuit. It's taken a lot of fire recently and she wanted to ensure it's combat ready."

Tali nodded her thanks and left the CIC. Shepard was indeed in the armory, along with Jacob. Neither of them looked up as Tali entered the room. Both soldiers were intent on the cuirass of Shepard's hardsuit lying atop on a bench in the centre of the room.

"The capacitors need replacing," Jacob stated, consulting his omni-tool.

"I'll talk to Mordin. He's working on a few upgrades at the moment," Shepard paused. "In between working out how scale itch got onto the _Normandy_." She gave a mock shudder. _"Sexually transmitted disease. Usually carried by varren."_

Jacob frowned, "Uh, Commander...way too much information."

Standing by the door, Tali gave a polite cough, alerting them to her presence. Both Shepard and Jacob looked up. "Tali," Shepard greeted her friend. "Something wrong? The flotilla didn't decide to charge you with something else?"

Tali laughed, "No, nothing like that. I wanted to talk to you, actually." To Jacob she added, "In private."

The man saluted Shepard and passed Tali on his way out of the room. "Is he always like that?" she asked.

Shepard shrugged, "You can take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man." The N7 commando took an oil-stained rag from the workbench and wiped lubricants from her hands. Stepping further into the room, Tali saw grease beneath Shepard's fingernails.

Returning the rag to the bench, Shepard asked, "You needed to talk?"

"Yes...I'm not sure how best to say this so I'll just come out and say it."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, folded her arms over her chest. "The last time somebody said something like that to me was when I was in officer school and an ex-boyfriend was trying to explain why he was sleeping with my room mate."

"It's your yeoman," Tali said after processing the idea that anybody would be foolish enough to cheat on Shepard. "I think she likes you."

Shepard tilted her head to the right. "What makes you say that?" she asked after a moment.

Tali shuffled her feet, not sure how to go on, "The way she reacted to the rumours that you..."

"Hadley," Shepard muttered. "I'll kill him. What did Chambers say to you?"

"It wasn't so much _what_ she said as _how_ she said it," Tali clarified. "I'm no expert on human relationships but she sounded very hurt by the idea that...you know." Tali waved a hand at Shepard in a vague gesture.

Shepard sighed and leaned against the work bench. "She's a nice person, Tali. I like her. The same way I like you or Mordin."

Tali laid a gentle hand on Shepard's forearm, "I get the feeling she wants to be more than friends, Shepard. I thought it best if you knew."

"This is going to be awkward," Shepard said quietly, running a hand through her hair. Tali gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. Shepard went on, "Tali, how would you feel if somebody you had feelings for told you they didn't feel the same way?"

"I'd respect them for having the courage and decency to be honest with me, Shepard," Tali replied, voice matter of fact.

"You're right. But a ship this small, the whole crew's going to know. God I feel awful."

Releasing her hold on Shepard's arm, Tali said softly, "You'll feel worse if you don't let her down gently while there's still time."

Shepard bit down on her lower lip and nodded silently. For a long time after Tali departed, she stood looking at the disassembled pieces of her armour, wondering how best to sort things out with Chambers and not break her heart. Eventually Shepard nodded to herself and left the room.

Hands clasped behind her back, Shepard returned to the CIC, nodding to crew as she passed their stations. Kelly looked up as she approached, briefly meeting Shepard's eyes before looking away again. _Hell. Tali was right. Any moment now, she'll give me another look...there she goes. This is going to hurt._

"Commander, is there something you need?" Kelly enquired as Shepard halted a few feet away.

Shepard swallowed past a suddenly dry mouth, felt her heart rate accelerate. "I need to talk to you in private, Chambers," she said quietly. "Port observation deck. Five minutes." Without waiting for a response, Shepard turned and left.

Watching Shepard depart, Kelly felt a rush of conflicting thoughts and feelings. Fear. Longing. Anxiety. Desire. The five minutes seemed never to pass. Sure every crew member was watching her, Kelly left her post, hands suddenly damp, pulse beating in her throat as she boarded the elevator.

The observation deck gave a stunning view of the deep space surrounding the _Normandy_. Shepard stood in the room's centre, arms by her side, looking out at the stars. She turned as Kelly entered the room. The space was dimly lit, with much of the light pouring in from outside. Limned against the starlight, Kelly saw not the CO of the ship clad in her fatigues but an ethereal goddess. Kelly had never seen something as beautiful in her life.

"Commander?" she asked, voice soft.

Shepard sighed. "Chambers...It seems I've been blind. Tali told me you...." Shepard paused and broke eye contact. Kelly stepped closer to Shepard, not sure what she intended to do when she got to her. Shepard looked up again and Kelly halted.

"is there something wrong?" Kelly said after a silence of several seconds. "Have I done something-" she stopped as Shepard shook her head.

"Chambers," Shepard said in a voice so low, Kelly barely heard her at all, "Do you have feelings for me?"

For a moment, silence held sway as each woman looked the other in the eye. Kelly felt her lip tremble as she fought to keep herself in check. Unable to speak, she nodded.

Shepard sighed again, took a backward step. "I...I'm sorry but I don't feel the same way. I can't give you what you need."

"Oh," Kelly managed. "I...need to sit down."

The yeoman seated herself on one of the comfortably cushioned sofas in the room, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them to herself. For a while, neither woman spoke. Kelly sat looking out into space. Shepard stood immobile, carefully observing the younger woman's expression. Though her face remained composed, a single tear hung suspended from Kelly's eyelid until gravity sent it sliding along the contours of her face. Willing herself to move, Shepard crossed the room until she stood beside Kelly. Wordlessly, Shepard sat alongside her.

Time passed. Eventually, voice barely above a whisper, Shepard said, "I don't know what to say, Kelly. I never meant to lead you on in any way. It's just..." she trailed off and Kelly turned her face towards Shepard's. Forcing herself to meet Kelly's luminous eyes, Shepard continued, "When I'm around you, I feel as though I don't have to put up any walls. I can be myself and let my guard down. Coming into this, I never expected to find a person in Cerberus I could trust. But I trust you, Kelly. More than that, I consider you a friend. I know that must hurt, the whole 'just friends' thing but you deserve the truth."

Kelly's throat worked as she fought back tears. "I appreciate that, Commander."

Still holding Kelly's gaze, Shepard gave a small, sad smile, "I think we're past the point of using rank and titles. Off duty, I'm Alison."

Kelly laughed with surprise as Shepard stuck her right hand out. Kelly took it, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Alison."

"Are you going to be OK?" Shepard shook her head even as she asked the question. "I'm an idiot. You've carried this around for I don't know how long, I understand if you need time off from your duties."

Kelly shook her head emphatically, strands of auburn hair taking flight. "You're not an idiot and I need to concentrate on my work, Com...Alison." Tucking errant strands of hair behind her left ear, Kelly said, "I've....liked you since before we met. I know that must make me sound like some deranged stalker."

Shepard smiled, a flash of neat white teeth, "Only a little bit."

Turning her gaze outside the ship once more, Kelly went on, "At first, it was purely professional interest - I'd just been informed of my transfer to the _Normandy_ and my role and I needed to be familiar with the files of the crew."

Shepard nodded, silently encouraging Kelly to continue. "I started with Lieutenant Moreau's file. I can't begin to imagine what living with Vrolik Syndrome must be like but he never let that stop him from accomplishing his goals. I admire him greatly for that. Then," Kelly turned to face Shepard, for a moment studying the planes of her face, the gentle glow of cybernetics beneath the skin. "Then, I picked up your file. From a professional perspective, forgive me for saying this, your profile was a goldmine - no parents, troubled environment growing up," Kelly's voice softened, "Akuze. That alone would have been enough to break most people. But you-"

"I was too stubborn to die," Shepard interrupted, expression hard, "Nothing more. It took a lot of time for me to process what happened and move on. For the first six months afterwards, I woke up screaming every night."

Kelly nodded, "That's in there as well. Your resilience impressed me, Shepard. At first my interest was purely professional...later, as I read more and more, it became personal. I wanted to know the _woman_ behind the rank and Star of Terra. I wanted to know _you_, Alison."

"I never knew a dead person could make such an impression," Shepard replied with a wry smile.

Kelly laughed. "Then, when I actually met you, you were everything the files said you were and more."

"Oh?" Shepard asked, right eyebrow raised.

"The files didn't indicate just how far you're willing to go for your crew, how you'll do everything humanly possible to help someone in need." Acting on impulse, Kelly took Shepard's right hand in hers, feeling the calluses. "You're a beautiful person, Alison Shepard and I feel blessed to be a part of this."

Shepard gently disengaged her hand from Kelly. "I don't know what to say, Kelly. Thanks?"

Beaming happily, Kelly replied, "You don't need to say anything." The younger woman opened her arms. After a moment's hesitation, Shepard accepted her embrace, briefly resting her head on Kelly's shoulder. When they pulled away from each other, Kelly's eyes were wet with fresh tears. Tears of happiness.

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy looked up from her inspection of the Tantalus core as booted footsteps approached from behind her, ringing out from the deck. Tali turned and faced Shepard. "How did things go with Kelly?" Tali began.

Hands in the pockets of her uniform, Shepard looked up at the glowing drive core as though seeing it for the first time. "Better than I'd expected. She's a good person, Tali." Shepard's voice turned harsh, "Cerberus doesn't deserve her."

Tali nodded in agreement, "No, they don't."

With an obvious effort, Shepard turned the conversation to other things, "How's the ship running?"

"Better than even I'd hoped for. I still don't trust Cerberus but they know how to build ships."

Running a hand over the bulkhead, Shepard replied, "That they do." After a moment she turned to leave. "I need to talk to Mordin about something. I'll see you later."

In the tech lab, Professor Solus grappled with a problem far more perplexing than that of the origin of the plague on Omega - scale itch. Somehow, what should have been a disease confined to varren had not only jumped species boundaries but ended up on the _Normandy._

"Mutation of basic virus structure?" Mordin asked himself, fingers working rapidly at his console. "Extremely likely, given propensity for adaptation of lifeforms native to Tuchanka. Possible vectors for spread of disease? Airborne? No, air scrubbers would have detected it. Water borne? If so, filtration systems would have found it..."

Mordin noted the door opening, footsteps entering the room and the door closing but didn't look up - too much work, too many variables, need to focus.

"Professor?" Shepard asked.

Mordin jerked upright, fingers inputting a string of gibberish into the system. "Shepard. Now not a good time. Trying to isolate likely infection corridor for scale itch."

"Maybe I can help you out, bounce some ideas off each other?" Shepard suggested, leaning against the bulkhead.

Mordin's large dark eyes blinked quickly once, twice. "Yes! Exchange of ideas, theories helpful. Am listening."

Eyes closed, Shepard said, "We most recently encountered varren on Tuchanka, correct?"

"Yes, also on Pragia but scale itch not present then. Only _after _departure from krogan homeworld."

"Right. So it follows that one of the ground team was exposed to scale itch whilst on Tuchanka. The only people who were planetside were-"

The salarian cut Shepard off, "Already tested self for infection. Clean." Mordin's voice carried obvious pride.

Opening her eyes, Shepard turned to the doctor, holding out her left forearm. "Needle me," she instructed. After a moment, Mordin nodded and approached Shepard with syringe, elastic strap and rubbing alcohol.

Shepard turned her face away from Mordin as he swabbed the inside of her elbow with alcohol; the sharp odour invading her nostrils. As Mordin slid the needle into her vein, Shepard said, "I've been shot, stabbed, almost crushed by a piece of Reaper debris and spaced but the whole needle in the vein thing _still_ creeps me out."

"Common reaction across multiple species, Shepard," Mordin said as he removed the tube of blood and applied a plaster to the injection site. "Finished. Should have results in two hours."

Shepard turned back to the salarian, "So soon?"

"Yes. AI very useful in diagnostic work."

"OK. Besides us were Grunt and Garrus. I saw a varren get under Grunt's line of fire during his Rite and it damn near took his leg off."

"Indeed," Mordin agreed as he labelled Shepard's blood sample. "Very likely Grunt contracted disease from infected varren." Mordin inhaled deeply. "Need to test him. Garrus also but suspect Grunt most likely carrier."

Shepard laughed. "No sane krogan would submit to tests by a salarian. Uh, no offense."

"None taken, Shepard. Grunt far likelier to submit to testing from _you,_ however."

Eyes wide, the former Spectre shook her head. "I'm supposed to take a blood sample from a _krogan?_"

Mordin shook his head. "Require only skin sample. Suggest inspection of his leg wound ample opportunity to collect one."

"Right," Shepard replied, "_Hey Grunt, show me those bite marks so I can collect a skin sample!_ That should work very well."

Mordin pointed a finger at Shepard, "You mock but battle scars very important to krogan sense of self-pride. Grunt will be eager to display them to his Battle Master."

Shepard looked up at the ceiling as she addressed the AI. "EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"I'm off to compare battle scars with Grunt. If I die, see to it that Chambers looks after the space hamster for me."

"Of course, Shepard."

"Battle Master," Grunt said in greeting as Shepard entered the cargo bay. The human who had helped him take down the thresher during his Rite appeared uncharacteristically nervous, he thought.

"Grunt, how are things?"

Grunt spread his arms wide, "Thanks to you Shepard, I have everything. Clan, kin...and the females!"

Shepard held up her hands, "I don't think I want to know the details, Grunt."

Grunt roared with laughter, "And Uvenk," he said after a moment, "I wanted to disembowel him! To tear out his spine like a trophy!"

"Yes," Shepard replied with a small smile, "We should have encased his spine in Lucite and mounted it above the airlock door so it's the first thing people see when they come aboard."

"You're mocking me, Battle Master," Grunt folded his arms.

Thumb and forefinger held close together, Shepard answered, "A little bit." Pointing to Grunt's lower leg she continued, "Looks like you took a pretty bad hit during the Rite." The armour protecting the krogan's leg had been removed, revealing deep bite marks.

Grunt shrugged. "You call _that_ a bad hit? I barely felt it. Besides it'll be fine in a few days."

Shepard stepped closer, made a point of leaning in towards the wound. Despite the high risk of infection from a varren attack, the tough scales were healing nicely and the leg easily supported Grunt's weight. Looking back up at Grunt's impassive features, Shepard traced a forefinger along the left side of her face, from her ear along the jawline to her chin. "I used to have nice scar right along there," she said. "Knife attack when I was sixteen."

Grunt cocked a head to one side. His Battle Master wasn't the sort of person to let vanity get in the way of keeping a good scar. "What happened to it?"

Straightening again, Shepard ran a hand along her side. "This isn't the original packaging," she said quietly. "I don't know the details. Probably, I don't want to know but when they rebuilt me, Cerberus _really_ rebuilt me. Teeth I lost when I was younger are back in my head. Old scars are gone."

"Pity," Grunt said after a moment. "Facial scars are...fierce. Like Wrex's"

"Look, Grunt, I have to be honest with you," Shepard said, deciding to go to the heart of the problem.

"About?" Grunt demanded, teeth bared.

"I need a skin sample from the bite mark. Mordin's worried you may have become infected with a varren-borne illness."

"Damn salarians," the krogan growled, muscles tensing. "If he weren't part of the krantt, I'd used his bones to pick my teeth." Shepard stared hard at the krogan. After a moment Grunt relented. "Fine, take a skin sample."

Shepard nodded, removing a silver cylindrical device from her pocket. Crouching by Grunt's side, acutely aware that her head was in very close proximity to his massive hands, Shepard pressed one end of the cylinder to the bite marks. With a sharp hiss, a fine needle shot out from the cylinder, collecting a skin sample before returning to the cylinder's interior. Standing once more, Shepard nodded to Grunt, signalling that she was finished.

"Coming down here so a _scientist_ can run tests on me...you've got a quad, Shepard," Grunt said approvingly.

"That's what people keep telling me."

**A/N:**I thought it might be interesting to figure out how the scale itch arrived on the ship and a varren bite seemed most plausible. Also, I don't usually 'do' romance but I like the idea of a Kelly/Shepard friendship.


	13. The Truth

**The Truth**

The email's subject line was succinct. The Truth. Two words. Seated in her office overlooking the trading floor, Liara T'soni almost deleted the message, believing it to be what she had heard humans refer to as 'spam.' The truth? It sounded as though the message would contain the rantings of a religious fanatic. Finger hovering over the holographic delete key, Liara's gaze skipped to the address line. The message seemed to have been routed through and bounced off several dummy servers before appearing in her inbox.

Liara sat back in her seat, frowning. _Somebody expended a great amount of time and effort to stymie any attempts at tracing the origin of this message. This isn't just spam, that's for certain_.

The information broker pressed a button set into her desk, paging her assistant. "Nyxeris? Hold all my calls."

"Of course, Ms T'soni."

Interest piqued, Liara opened the message.

_Liara,_

_I hope this message finds you well.  
__Not so very long ago, I met a young asari. She told me how she had spent the last fifty years of her life studying the Prothean civilisation and trying to determine the truth of how that civilisation came to end.  
__I came to love and adore that young asari. If any part of her remains beneath the cold, calculating person who threatens to flay people alive with her mind, she'll find the attached information of interest. If not...__Part of me will always love the 'old' Liara; this is for her._

_Shepard._

For several moments, Liara merely sat, eyes moving left to right as she read and re-read the short message. Gradually, she became aware of the tears drying on her cheeks, of the dull ache in her breast. _Shepard _she mouthed. Liara wiped the tears away with the heel of one hand while the other opened the attachment. Her desktop display filled with a cascading datastream - cellular mutation levels, DNA re-sequencing, all pointing towards...

"By the Goddess," Liara breathed, and began reading.

* * *

Shepard had spent a great deal of time debating whether she should have sent the message at all. In all likelihood, the Illusive Man would be furious when he found out she'd forwarded data regarding the transformation of Protheans into Collectors but that didn't really worry her as much as perhaps it should have. After all, she asked herself, what can he actually _do_ at this juncture? As Jacob had pointed out, it wasn't as though Cerberus could reel them in.

Rather, she had spent more time analysing her own feelings for Liara. Two years ago, each had experienced such intense emotions for the other that, at the time, Shepard honestly believed part of her would die if she and Liara were separated. Shepard's lips twisted up in a wry smile. _Turns out you died first, who'da thought? _Then came the meeting with a colder Liara, a person seemingly hell-bent on destroying the Shadow Broker. If she were honest with herself, Shepard had to admit a desire to simply pick things up where they'd left off. But that was an impossibility. The galaxy, at least as it related to her, had changed irrevocably in the past two years. Better to just let things go as best she could.

Yet...the data retrieved from the Collector vessel would, at the very least, make for some interesting bedside reading for an asari who had spent half of her life studying the fall of the Protheans. The 'old' Liara would have been, to use an expression the asari found so charming, on cloud nine, if she learned the truth.

Out of respect for what they had once meant to each other, Shepard composed the message, attached the file and instructed EDI to send it the next time the ship was within range of a comm buoy. Shepard sat in her cabin for a long time afterwards, seeing past the plain grey bulkheads and into Liara's loving blue eyes. With an effort, Shepard forced herself to her feet, her mind seizing upon a nagging issue, a desire to learn a truth for herself.

* * *

For the past several days, Kelly had felt the build-up of tension like a static charge among the crew. As Hadley put it, they were flying into the eye of the storm. The next objective of the Lazarus Cell was the retrieval of an IFF code from a Reaper. Kelly faltered midstride even as she reminded herself that this particular alien construct was derelict. _Like the Collector vessel_ a voice whispered in her mind. Knowing that, in a short time, the crew would be in close proximity to such an ancient and utterly inhuman creation put people on edge. Kelly saw it in the fraying tempers, the moody silences during meals and the way she herself stared at her terminal for longer and longer periods without really seeing it.

As always, Kelly made herself available to anybody who needed to talk and was pleased to see the Commander increasing the frequency of her shipboard rounds, speaking a few quiet words to various members of the CIC staff. The Commander herself had been somewhat quiet and introspective these last several hours but Kelly was content to let her CO work things out in her own time. Thinking about the woman once hailed as the Saviour of the Citadel and her own feelings towards her made Kelly bite her lower lip and face heat with embarrassment; she'd carried on like a dizzy school girl with a crush and Shepard, bless her heart had let her down as gently as she knew how.

The elevator doors sighed open and Kelly knew without having to look that it would be Shepard arriving on deck. This was confirmed when Shepard said from behind her, "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

Kelly turned from her console, smiling radiantly. "I always have time for you, Commander."

Shepard merely nodded, expression neutral.

When her superior did not immediately reply, Kelly's smile fell a little. "Is something wrong, Commander?" she enquired, losing the flirty undertone.

"Why did you join Cerberus?" Shepard all but demanded.

Kelly folded her arms over her chest and frowned, taken aback by the abruptness of Shepard's question. The Commander stood before the yeoman, staring hard into her eyes as though she could look into her mind for the answers. Unbalanced by the intensity of her gaze, Kelly broke eye contact with Shepard. Looking at the deck she replied, "I wanted to help humanity." Looking up once more, she added, "I wanted to make a _difference!"_ Unnoticed by either woman, nearby crew looked up, startled by the near-shout with which Kelly had delivered that last word.

Shepard cocked her head to the side, hard expression softening and Kelly relaxed a little. "I'm sorry but I'm just not able to see it. A...nice girl like you waking up one morning and saying _Hey, I'm not doing anything else today, maybe I'll sign on with Cerberus!" _the Commander said. Before Kelly could reply, Shepard went on, "You have no prior military experience. Most of the crew are former Alliance who lost faith with the politicians. Taylor, Donnelly, hell even Dr Chakwas and Joker but you...you finished high school, got a degree in psychology and ended up here." Shepard shook her head, confusion writ large across her features.

Kelly nodded, realisation dawning upon her. "You're wondering at what point I underwent some experience that made me realise an organisation like Cerberus is a necessity?" When Shepard nodded mutely, Kelly went on, "There wasn't one." Kelly smiled at the baffled expression on her superior's face, fighting down an urge to reach out and gently close Shepard's slightly gaping mouth. "You know the recruiters the Alliance sends to high schools and universities? _Join the Alliance, secure humanity's future_, that kind of thing?" Kelly asked.

"I saw posters like that back home..." Shepard shook her head. "I remember sprinting past one with some rather large men intent on doing me harm in pursuit and it seemed like a better life than the one I'd led at the time."

Kelly laughed softly. "I have a hard time imagining _you_ running from anything, Commander."

Smiling crookedly, Shepard replied, "Hell, Chambers if running from gang-bangers was an Olympic event, I'd have won a ton of medals. Anyway," Shepard steered the conversation back to her intended destination, "You were talking about recruiters?"

Kelly nodded. "Cerberus infiltrates Alliance recruiting efforts. The Illusive Man ensures that recruiting stations employ people sympathetic to our goals. Most of the time they don't even realise they're working for Cerberus. The recruiters ask subtle questions to gauge a person's suitability for a place within the organisation. It's funny, actually," Kelly smiled to herself. "My first role within Cerberus was assisting in recruiting efforts."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, "I imagine you were quite successful at it."

Smiling coyly, Kelly replied, "Oh, I had my moments."

"So, what led you to think about enlisting in the first place? Honestly, Kelly, you seem like you'd be more at home as a social worker or child counsellor, not a soldier."

"Have you _seen_ some of those recruiters, Commander?" Kelly asked, eyes alive with good humour. "Seriously though, through my studies, I became aware of the high number of soldiers who return from long stints in space feeling as though nobody back home knows what they go through. I wanted to help."

"I understand, Kelly," Shepard replied, voice low. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"It's fine. Sometimes, not knowing a person's motivations can be frustrating."

"There is that. Mostly, I was curious. Thanks for telling me, Kelly."

Briefly, Kelly laid a hand on Shepard's forearm. "You can talk to me anytime, Commander."

Shepard nodded silently as Kelly returned to her duties. Walking past the yeoman's position, Shepard entered the tech lab. Mordin turned to the hatch as it cycled open and nodded to Shepard in greeting.

"Shepard. Glad you are here. Have test results." Mordin inhaled through his nostrils, "Interesting developments."

"How so?"

"Completed analysis of your blood and Grunt's skin sample. Both clear of scale itch."

"Well, that's a relief," Shepard replied. "What's the development?"

Mordin spoke faster than usual, excitement evident in his voice, "Grunt's physiology unique among krogan. Very robust immune system. Destroyed scale itch."

"Destroyed?" Shepard repeated.

Mordin nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! Okeer's work boosted already-impressive krogan regenerative properties. Need to run more tests to be absolutely certain but Grunt appears to be immune to disease." He paused before adding, "Much like vorcha but house-trained."

Shepard bit down on her lower lip, struggling not to laugh. Despite her efforts, an amused titter escaped her. "I'll be sure to pass on the good news to Grunt, then."

The salarian nodded and returned to his work, "Good talking to you, Shepard. Still much to do."

The Commander lingered near the door to the lab, watching Mordin as he manipulated his console, rubbing his chin with one hand as his restless mind worked on some problem or other. "What do you think we'll find on the Reaper?" she asked suddenly, jerking Mordin from his contemplation of Collector gene sequences. "I mean, the Cerberus science team's gone silent," Shepard ventured, "_Something_ happened to them."

"Have heard reports of indoctrination from various sources," the professor said after a moment. "impossible to say for certain but suspect Ceberus team...corrupted from working in close proximity to Reaper." After pausing to take a breath, he added, "Indoctrinated or turned into husks. Neither option pleasant. Suggest extreme caution, Shepard."

"Yeah," Shepard deadpanned. "_Extreme caution._ I should have that tattooed somewhere so I don't forget. I need to suit up, talk to you when we get back."

_If we get back._ Suppressing a shudder, the Commander left the tech lab.


	14. Taken

**Taken**

The attack was sudden and unexpected and the Cerberus crew was caught off guard. Alarm klaxons blared, scrambling the crew to red-alert status. It would not be enough. Eerily calm amidst the chaos gripping the _Normandy_, EDI's voice cut through the confused babble of the crew. "We are under attack. Collectors have boarded. All crewmen are ordered to arm themselves and assume defensive postures."

On the edge of hysteria, Kelly half-expected the AI to add _That is all._ For several precious moments, the yeoman stood by her station, unable to move. Crewmen raced past her, jostling her as they ran for the armory. Hadley paused long enough to grab her shoulders and shake her. "Come on!" he yelled into her face, "The Collectors are boarding and I ain't winding up like half of Horizon! Move!" Grabbing Kelly by the elbow, Hadley propelled the young woman to the armory.

Eyes wide, Kelly attempted to suppress the keening in her mind. Moving quickly, Hadley grabbed a rifle, stuffed thermal clips into his pockets until they bulged almost comically and pressed a Tempest machine-pistol into Kelly's hands. Though her hands shook and her face was ashen with fright, the yeoman took the weapon and felt calmer as she methodically inserted an ammunition block and thermal clip into it. While Kelly would never win any awards for her marksmanship, now that she was armed she felt slightly more in control of her own fate.

Nerves singing with tension and adrenaline, Kelly's senses seemed heightened - sounds were crisper, colours sharper, her immediate surroundings more defined. Kelly's palms felt damp and she took a moment to wipe them dry on her clothing before once more gripping the SMG. From beyond the closed doors leading to the armory, Kelly heard muted shouts from the crew, screams of pure terror and the chatter of gunfire. Moving slowly, Hadley and Kelly left the room and the sounds of combat amplified. From the tech lab came a long burst of full-auto fire then a pained shriek as something untoward befell the shooter.

Kelly gulped, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse in her throat. Voice shaky, she asked Hadley in low tones, "Are we going to die?"

Hadley turned his face towards hers and she saw grim fear in the taut lines there. Kelly knew she was lucky he'd stopped to snap her out of the funk she was in. Shrugging, Hadley replied, "Likely we will but I ain't aimin' to make it easy on these mothers." Kelly nodded and, looking momentarily at the deck between her feet, took a breath and stepped forward a pace. After that first step, walking towards almost-certain death or worse at the hands of the Collectors became a little easier.

The hatch linking the CIC and lab cycled open and one of the insectile aliens strode through. "Oh God..." Kelly gasped. The quartet of glowing eyes flickered as the Collector silently observed the humans for a few moments. In those few seconds, Kelly had time to note with mounting dread the extra limbs protruding from the thing's torso and the wings folded flat atop its carapace. The alien swung a long rifle-like weapon to bear and Kelly had time to think _Shepard brought one of those back from Horizon_ before Hadley pushed her roughly to the deck. An intense energy beam seared the air overhead, scoring molten lines through opposite bulkhead.

As it fired, the weapon emitted a high-pitched whine and Kelly felt it reverberating through her skull. The yeoman felt Hadley's weight shifting atop her and cringed at the burst of gunfire as he opened up on the Collector. The insect-like creature reeled back, ichor erupting from numerous wounds and collapsed with a chittering squeal. Ears ringing, heart pounding, Kelly climbed to her feet and turned to Hadley. "If you hadn't pushed me down...I don't know what would have happened."

Hadley waved off her thanks and instead turned his attention to the elevator. Something was moving about in the lift shaft, claws skittering for purchase on the metal walls of the shaft.

The pair of Cerberus crew backed away from the lift until progress was halted by the bulk of the galaxy map display. _Oh God oh God oh God_ the scared little girl inside Kelly's mind spoke up. With an effort, Kelly made her shut up and eyes narrowed, focused her attention on the elevator doors. Metal tore as more of the aliens brought their strength to bear on the inside of the doors. With a final tortured shriek, the Collectors wrenched the doors open. The invaders were too numerous to count and the rear of the shaft was obscured by the writhing mass of insect-like aliens as they scrambled over each other, intent on claiming the crew.

Painfully, Kelly's right index finger clamped down on the trigger. The machine-pistol spat a volley of rounds into the horde of Collectors, muzzle flash illuminating her surroundings like a strobe light. Beside her, Hadley fired in short bursts, driving the aliens back only to have more take their place. The Tempest emitted a series of dry clicks as the thermal clip expended its last heatsink. Kelly glanced down at the weapon for a moment as she ejected the spent clip. Movement immediately in front of her made her look back up, into a quartet of glowing yellow eyes. "No!" she screamed as inhumanly strong arms grabbed her and dragged her to the open lift shaft.

Screaming for help, Kelly's fingers scrabbled for purchase on the smooth bulkheads. Hadley ran at her but was knocked sideways and out by another Collector. Frantically, Kelly kicked back, feeling the sole of her boot connect with somehing solid and for a moment, the iron grip around her loosened. For the barest of instants, Kelly dared to hope she could escape as she planted a foot onto the deck and attempted to lunge away from the pandemonium behind her. Unyielding clawed hands tore into her calves and ankles, ripping clothing and flesh.

The yeoman's face twisted in agony, tendons and muscles burning with effort, fingers scratching futiley at the deck. A split ran the length of a fingernail before it tore away from the nailbed entirely. Her own blood, smeared on the cold metal deck was the last thing Kelly saw before the darkness claimed her.

* * *

Screams. Wavering shrieks. Endless prayers, some whispered, some screamed from hoarse throats to echo back again and again, mocking the supplicant. Occasionally the cries and moans were replaced by a yet worse sound - a horrendous thick sucking sound as though a titanic being were slurping up a fruit smoothee through a straw. This analogy was the closest Kelly's mind was able to produce, traumatised as it was. In the tube to her immediate left, a male colonist's face and head was suddenly engulfed by what looked like a cloud of black particles.

_They're eating his face_ Kelly observed, utterly detached from the situation.

Fortunately the colonist was either unconscious or already dead for he uttered not one sound nor made any effort to dislodge the nanomachines as they pureed his skin, flesh, muscle and bone. By the time Kelly realised she could close her eyes and witness nothing more, the process was complete and all that was left of the man was sludgy and red. Kelly squeezed her eyes shut but couldn't block out the sucking sound.

"You're going to need therapy after this," she told herself, voice calm and matter of fact. She paused before adding a caveat. "If there _is_ an after, that is."

Eyes still closed, Kelly tilted her head back until it rested against the the glass-like surface of the tube. Her short red hair was slick with a substance resembling a clear slime. A trickle of the substance slid down the back of her neck and was absorbed by the material of her uniform. Inside the tube, time had ceased to mean anything; it might have been days or weeks since she'd awakened here or merely hours. Beyond the amber-tinted confines of what was likely her final resting place, tubes and pipes of varying diameters hugged the ceiling, their lengths disappearing into the gloom of the vast hive-like structure.

Upon opening her eyes for the first time days? hours? ago and finding herself trapped, Kelly had thrown herself against the glass-like structure encapsulating her. Her screams reverberated from inside the tube, hurting her own ears. Her fists pounded against the thick membrane to no avail. Eventually she slumped back, physically drained. Aware now that escape was at best, unlikely, Kelly closed her eyes and waited.

* * *

"We're going to get them back," Shepard spoke the words with quiet determination. Standing tall at one end of the long table in the debriefing room, Shepard's gaze traversed the room, her eyes meeting those of the team she'd assembled. Miranda and Jacob nodded silently. Mordin paced back and forth, mind and body both in constant motion. Garrus stood by Tali and not for the first time, Shepard wished she could see the quarian's face. Grunt slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand, felt rage bubble away inside him like liquid fire. Those bugs had taken his Battle Master's krantt and like cowards, they had waited until Shepard herself was not there to challenge them. "I'll tear them apart, Shepard," he vowed. "This I promise you."

"Fuckin'-A," Jack put in. The tattooed woman turned a hard-eyed glare on Miranda. "And when this is over..." Jack let the threat hang in the air, making a throat-slitting gesture. Miranda met the other woman's gaze silently.

Unlike the krogan or biotic human, Thane made no outward display of emotion. He stood slightly apart from the others, hands clasped behind his back, studying Shepard. This would be a true test of the human's character. From what he had observed of her so far, she would acquit herself well in the coming battle. Samara too quietly watched the Commander. That one so young had accomplished so much impressed the justicar immensely though the battle was not yet won.

For his part, Zaeed said nothing; fluffy speeches weren't his cup of tea and the mercenary had yet to encounter a word that could stop a bullet. He leaned against the bulkhead, muscular arms crossed over his chest and watched Shepard with his good eye. Though she made a good job at hiding it, Zaeed could see she was tired. Saw it in the dark circles beneath her eyes, read it in the slight slump of her posture when she thought nobody was looking. _We're all dead already,_he thought to himself. A person who hadn't seen what Zaeed had seen over the years may well have attempted to jump ship by now but Zaeed had made a deal with Cerberus and a mercenary was only as good as his last job. And hell, there was always the chance, no matter how slim that they'd live to see the other side. It'd be a hell of a story to tell if he did make it.

* * *

The flight seat wasn't comfortable anymore. Joker found he could count the new stress fractures in his legs and clamped his lips tightly together against the pain. He looked up from his displays as two sets of foot steps neared. "How bad's the pain?" Shepard asked.

"It's fine," he replied through gritted teeth.

"You're no good to us if you can't concentrate on your job," Miranda snapped. Shepard regarded the Cerberus woman coolly. It was clear from the set of Miranda's shoulders and the tightness of her jaw muscles that she still held Joker responsible for the loss of the crew.

Joker turned the seat around so he could look Miranda full in the face as he spoke, "And I'm even less good to you if I'm high on painkillers." Joker knew he was pushing things, moreso than usual, given Miranda's present mood but after witnessing the Collectors firsthand, the worst Miranda could do didn't seem that bad by comparison. Before the Cerberus operative could answer, Joker had turned his seat back around.

Miranda's fists clenched and she opened her mouth to deliver a stinging rebuke only to feel a hand close gently around her forearm. Shepard shook her head, mouthing _let it go. _Miranda sighed and Shepard released her arm. Miranda turned her gaze towards the space beyond the cockpit windows. Travelling at FTL speeds produced a riotous display of shifting colours as the frigate's emissions blueshifted. Past the swirling colours the Omega-4 mass relay hung in the void pulsing a malignant red. Ringing the vast structure were the lights of countless hazard beacons warning ships away from the area.

"Approach vector confirmed," Joker reported levelly, "Relay is hot."

As she cruised within activation range of the relay, brilliant arcs of blue-white energy lashed out at the _Normandy_, dissipating as they pulsed across the vessel's exterior. Inside the cockpit, Shepard and Miranda both shuddered involuntarily as their biotic amps reacted to the relay's mass effect field. Bracing herself for the snap, Miranda extended a hand towards the bulkhead, wincing as a visible spark of static electricity leapt from her fingertip to the metal.

Joker shifted in his seat as the relay loomed ahead of them like the eye of some titanic entity. "I am a leaf on the wind," he said softly as the _Normandy_ neared the threshold. "Watch how I soar."

EDI's spherical avatar flickered into existence, "There are no trees or leaf-like objects in space, Mister Moreau."

Joker and Shepard looked at each other. "That was a joke, EDI," they chorused. The _Normandy_ jumped.

* * *

Kelly couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken with her sister or even how long it had been since they'd exchanged emails. Given the yeoman's current situation, such things suddenly felt very important to Kelly. _I'm sure I emailed her the last time the ship was in range of a comm buoy._ And she had, she remembered asking how their parents were, was their father recovering well from his shoulder surgery. But when had the _Normandy_ last been within range of a comm buoy? Days ago? Weeks? Months even? Kelly didn't know and sudden hot tears started from her eyes at her own inability to remember something so simultaneously trivial and critical.

What kind of person was she, that she couldn't remember the last time she'd contacted her family? Kelly sniffed and wiped the tears away with a hand. Kathryn would understand, Kelly attempted to reassure herself. The Chambers siblings were alike in that regard - both deeply compassionate, understanding and accepting of others. Though Kathryn was older by two years, the two women were so physically similar they were often mistaken for twins. When they were younger, Kathryn joked that it was lucky she always wore her hair longer than Kelly's so people could tell them apart.

Kathryn would be shattered to learn of her sister's demise. _It's OK_ Kelly wished she could tell her, _I may die but it's in the service of something greater than any of us. You have to believe that._ Even as Kelly attempted to project those thoughts towards her sister, the background sounds she'd managed to ignore until now were shattered by agonised shrieks as yet another captive was reduced to mush and siphoned away. Kelly cringed at the close proximity of the sounds.

As the sounds faded, Kelly's tired eyes focused on the movements of figures rendered blurred and indistinct by the surface of the tube. Kelly shied away as far as the confines of her prison would allow, believing the newcomers to be Collectors. As they came closer, the figures resolved themselves into familiar forms and Kelly was convinced her mind was offering her images of what she desperately wanted - rescue. Kelly squeezed her eyes closed, opening them only when a muffled voice shouted, "Get them out of there!"

A series of thuds reverberated throughout the immediate area as Shepard's team frantically assaulted the exterior of the tubes, seeking a way to open them. A sharp crack and hiss of escaping air heralded Kelly's imminent release. Even as Shepard's armoured hands pulled her from the cocoon-like prison, Kelly felt the touch of minute particles on the nape of her neck. The cloud of nanomachines descended and a fine mist of blood erupted from the back of Kelly's head and neck. The yeoman fell to the floor, scrambling forward on hands and knees, face contorted in agony.

Above her, voices raised in near-panicked shouts called out "Close the damn tube!"

"Get some medi-gel on her, now!"

Over-riding all other voices was Grunt's. "Eat this!" he roared, firing a full-auto burst from his assault rifle at the cloud. Whether through sheer good fortune or the fact that Kelly had already left the tube, the swarm dissipated. The yeoman collapsed to the ground, shivering uncontrollably, feeling trails of her own blood sliding along her neck and throat and pooling on the floor beneath her. As she attempted to roll onto her back, Shepard and Dr Chakwas knelt alongside her. Though in shock herself, Chakwas immediately went to work assessing the damage.

"The injuries appear to be superficial for the most part. I need medi-gel to stop the bleeding and a unit of tetrahexine to counter the shock. Stat!"

As Chakwas administered the medi-gel and drugs from the squad's first aid supplies, Kelly's eyes locked with Shepard's. "You came," she whispered.

Features composed behind her helmet visor, Shepard answered, "Nobody gets left behind."

"Hell, Commander," Gardner put in, "We are sure damn glad you came by when you did."

"Let's see if you feel the same way when you see the state the _Normandy's _in," Garrus quipped.

"Yeah," Grunt added, "Joker crashed it real good."

Ignoring this critique of his piloting abilities, Joker informed the squad, "We've got enough systems back up to make a pick up but we'll have to land back from your location."

Miranda shook her head, "No. We've come too far to turn back now."

For an instant, Kelly felt a surge of raw hatred for Miranda. Was the success of the mission so important that she was willing to just walk away from her crewmates? Shepard crossed the distance between herself and Miranda so quickly, Kelly almost didn't see her move. The N7 operative slammed Miranda against the wall, biting off each word. "Nobody. Gets. Left. Behind." Miranda shoved Shepard backwards and for a moment, the two women seemed about to come to blows.

"Wow," Donnelly said, "Here I am thinking I'm about to die in the most horrible fashion I can imagine and suddenly I have front row seats to a cat fight! Me-_ow!_"

For the next several seconds, the entire crew, Miranda and Shepard included were seized by a fit of frantic laughter. Kelly chuckled weakly. Shepard sighed to herself and turned back to Miranda. "Sorry I pushed you against the wall."

Miranda shrugged, "I probably had that coming," she conceded.

Jack snorted, "And the rest."

Shepard gestured for her team to fall in and her squad assembled quickly and professionally. "All right, we're not quite done yet. Mordin," Shepard nodded at the salarian, "I want you to escort the crew back to the _Normandy._"

Mordin nodded and activated his omni-tool, "Joker, please provide co-ordinates for extraction." When the data had downloaded to his omni-tool, Mordin made his way past each crewman, quickly touching each one on the shoulder as he counted them off and matched them with the crew manifest he'd long since memorised. _Chakwas, Chambers...must keep eye on that one, has suffered injury...Daniels, Donnelly, Gardner, Hadley, Hawthorne, Matthews..._

"All crew present and accounted for, Shepard," the scientist announced. He paused to take a breath, before adding, "Ready to move."

As Kelly and the crew assembled alongside Mordin, Shepard issued orders to her ground team. "I'll take a small squad with me into the heart of the base, the rest of you hold this position. Garrus, Lawsie, with me."

While the rear-guard established a defensive position, Mordin began hustling his charges towards the relative safety of the crashed frigate. At the rear of the group, Kelly heard Shepard's team as they headed out. "You want to stop calling me 'Lawsie' Commander?" Miranda demanded.

After a moment came the Commander's reply, fainter with distance but still audible, "Nah."

* * *

Garrus and Grunt hadn't been entirely joking about the state of the SR-2. The upgraded _Normandy _had never been intended to make planet-fall and Kelly was faintly amazed that the craft's superstructure was still holding together. Even so, large sections of both the outer and inner hull had torn away during the crash. Shimmering kinetic barriers maintained hull integrity. Mordin saw the same stunned expressions on the face of each crewman - eyes wide as they took in the damage, mouths slightly agape and felt the need to provide some comfort. "Damage much less severe than initial impressions would suggest," he offered.

Kelly stumbled to a halt beside the professor, pain from her injuries momentarily forgotten. "Dr Solus, I can see right through into the mess hall!"

"Ah hell!" Gardner swore as he too looked through the rent in the _Normandy's_ flank. "The oven tore right out of the bulkhead!"

"I believe it would be best if we all stopped dallying and boarded the ship, don't you agree?" Dr Chakwas said in tones meant to calm and soothe. Though as she re-boarded the frigate with the assistance of Gardner, the doctor couldn't help but think _I need a stiff drink._

Joker left his seat and moved stiffly to the airlock as the first of the crew re-entered the ship. Though each of the crew stopped to offer a brief word of thanks, Joker could only shrug awkwardly at the praise. It had been EDI who'd sealed him in the engine room and opened the rest of the ship to vacuum, blowing the invaders into the ether.

Despite their recent trauma, the crew took to their stations, assessing the damage and effecting what repairs could be made onsite. Gingerly, Joker eased back into his seat and patched into Shepard's command frequency. A check of the squad's vital signs relayed from their hardsuits revealed no casualties. A lull in the shooting was interrupted by that most unexpected of sounds heard over a commline - laughter.

Joker had no trouble picturing Shepard shaking her head at whatever it was that had triggered the outburst. "_You have got to be kidding me," _her voice spoke from the bridge speakers, "_It looks like the bastard offspring of a Cyberdyne Systems Model 101."_

The helmsman shook his head at Shepard's penchant for twentieth century cinema. Given the existence of the geth, a film like _The Terminator_ seemed oddly prophetic. The rest of Shepard's team apparently hadn't caught the reference.

"Commander, _what_ are you talking about?" Miranda demanded and Joker found he had no trouble picturing _her_ posture either - arms crossed over her generously padded chest, brows furrowed over her blue eyes. Joker smiled slightly - Miranda was kind of hot when she was ticked off.

"_EDI, are you getting all this?"_ Shepard enquired. Joker glanced at the displays arrayed before him to confirm the _Normandy's_ data recorders were indeed logging every detail of the mission.

"Of course, Shepard," the AI replied. "Might I offer a tactical suggestion?"

_"Go on."_

"Eliminate the Human-Reaper hybrid before reinforcements arrive."

"_Copy that. OK, let's take this thing out."_

* * *

From the moment the _Normandy_ emerged from the Omega-4 relay into a veritable graveyard of ships, Joker had known he would be called upon to haul Shepard and her team out of the fire with scant seconds to spare. _It's gonna be like Virmire all over again,_ he told himself, _Just wait and see. _With this in mind, Joker asked EDI to redirect power from non-essential systems to the engines and performed another diagnostic check. Despite the rough landing and hull damage, the ship remained spaceworthy and EDI's estimates of the _Normandy's_ maximum velocity was ninety-one percent of light speed.

Despite his best efforts to maintain his slightly bored facade, Joker felt himself become more and more tense as he watched the mission timer. "Come _on, _Shepard," he muttered aloud and reached out to poke Dancing Elvis. The white-jumpsuited figure of the King affixed above the main console jittered up and down for several seconds before coming to rest once more. Another glance at the mission clock revealed only thirty seconds had elapsed since the last check. As Joker shifted his weight in the chair, hoping to find a more comfortable position and failing, the command frequency came alive with a transmission from the Illusive Man.

"We're kinda busy here at the moment," Joker muttered under his breath as he keyed the comm. "Hey, Commander. I've got the Illusive Man on the line, patching him through."

"Shepard," the Cerberus man began, "You've done the impossible."

_"Not quite,"_ Shepard answered, _"We still have to demolish the base."_

"Wait, Shepard. There's another way. I've been studying the schematics EDI uploaded. A timed radiation pulse will kill any remaining Collectors but leave the technology intact." Joker felt his arms rippling with gooseflesh at the Illusive Man's next words, "We can use that technology _against _the Reapers."

Even over the comm, Shepard's voice brooked no argument. _"That thing was an abomination. Too many humans lost their lives because of it."_

"The first of many lives," the Illusive Man countered. "Without the technology from that base, how many more will die?"

Shepard's voice came back, strong and confident. _"We don't need it. We'll fight and win without it."_

"Don't be so short-sighted, Shepard," the Illusive Man argued, "Some would say that bringing you back went too far but look at what you've accomplished. This technology can secure human dominance in the galaxy!"

_Today ze Collectors, tomorrow ze verld! _Joker thought to himself.

_"Human dominance or just Cerberus?" _Shepard questioned, her response echoing Joker's thoughts.

"Dominance for Cerberus _is_ dominance for humanity. I'll go to any lengths to preserve humanity, I've never backed away from that."

_"Maybe but it's not worth sacrificing our humanity to do it!"_

Joker nodded, impressed by strength of Shepard's conviction, undiluted through the comm. The Cerberus head seemed less impressed; his next words were tinged with panic. "Miranda! Don't let Shepard destroy the base!"

"_Or what?"_ Miranda replied coolly and Joker easily pictured her stance: hand on one out-thrust hip, eyebrow arched over her right eye. _"You'll replace me next?"_

"Miranda, I gave you an order!" the Illusive Man shouted, losing his composure for the first time in Joker's experience. _Clearly he isn't used to hearing people say 'no,'_ the helmsman thought with a smile. _Might do him some good to learn the galaxy doesn't revolve around him._

_"So I noticed. Consider this my resignation,"_ Miranda returned.

"Woah," Joker breathed. "Did you see that coming?" he asked rhetorically, "Because I _totally_ didn't see that coming!"

"No, Joker," EDI answered after a moment, "I did not anticipate Operative Lawson's reaction either."

Before the Illusive Man could respond, Shepard cut the link, underscoring the finality of Miranda's decision. "Just how screwed do you think we are, now?" Joker asked aloud.

"I do not possess the required data to determine the degree to which we are screwed, Joker."

Joker sighed and rubbed a hand over closed eyes. "Just forget I said anything."

* * *

Standing on the lip of the precipice, breathing raggedly, Garrus asked, "Do you think it's really dead this time?"

The part of Garrus' mind that always expected the worst wasn't at all surprised when the titanic human simulacrum had hauled itself up onto the platform. The former C-Sec investigator had merely looked up at the Reaper larva looming above them and said tiredly, "Crap!"

Shepard looked from the Reaper to _Bella Morte_ and back before clipping the shotgun to her armour in favour of the missile launcher she'd taken from the armory.

"How many rounds do you have?" Miranda shouted as she took cover next to Shepard.

"Ten," Shepard replied, shouldering the weapon and locking onto a weak point EDI's scans had revealed. "Nine," she amended as she depressed the trigger. The warhead spiralled towards the Reaper on a trail of blue-white exhaust. The resulting explosion appeared pitiful compared to the sheer scale of the target.

"Crap!" Garrus had replied.

Shepard and Miranda joined the turian in staring into the abyss below them. Of the Reaper there was no sign. The Commander stepped back, gripped by a sickening wave of vertigo. The feeling soon departed and, swallowing back bile, Shepard turned away from the edge. The timer displayed in her visor's HUD gave them five minutes to reach minimum safe distance. Wordlessly, the trio ran hard back the way they'd come. A familiar inhuman voice spoke to them, calling out from the very air as they ran.

"Human," Harbinger taunted them, "You have changed nothing."

As she ran, a warning indicator appeared in the corner of Shepard's HUD, warning of the imminent collapse of her amour's seeker swarm countermeasure. A glance over her shoulder revealed the swarm bearing down on them. Still running, Shepard brought up her sidearm, spun around and, running backwards as fast as she dared, fired into the oncoming cloud. Beside her, Miranda and Garrus fired as they backpedalled, mere gestures of defiance in the face of an overwhelming foe.

"We are you salvation through destruction," Harbinger went on.

Thermal clip expended, Shepard turned and ran as hard as she could, willing her lungs to provide her with more oxygen, silently compelling her cybernetics to hold out just a little longer. "Joker!" she gasped, breath coming in hard pants, "Require immediate evac! Area is extremely hot!"

_"Roger that, Commander. Normandy is airborne and away. ETA thirty seconds."_

Lips pressed into a bloodless line, Shepard sprinted the last hundred metres, feeling a deep stitch settle into her right side and the burn of lactic acid in her muscles. The battered form of the _Normandy _hung aloft just beyond a sheer drop into the darkness below. Joker had brought the frigate in as close as he dared and now stood in the open airlock, providing covering fire as the squad arrived. Bullets whined and snapped above their heads as Garrus and Miranda made the jump aboard the ship, turning as they landed to provide Shepard with additional covering fire.

The Commander stumbled to her knees as a burst of fire from the pursuing Collector drones collapsed her shields and impacted her armour with enough force to throw her off balance. Pain bloomed in her left shoulder as a mass accelerator round punched through the ablative plating. As though in slow motion, Shepard observed with clinical detachment the spurt of blood erupt from her upper chest and spill down her side before her hardsuit's medical exosystem sealed the wound with medi-gel. With each intake of breath stabbing at her like knives, Shepard attempted to stand on trembling legs. Even as her kinetic barriers came back online, another bullet thudded into her side, knocking her down once more.

"Shepard!" Garrus shouted from the airlock. "Get back on your feet, soldier! I won't have you goldbricking on _my_ watch!"

"Goldbricking?" Shepard gasped in pain as she again attempted to stand. Renewed gunfire from the _Normandy's_ airlock door drove back the last of the Collectors, granting the N7 operative time enough to regain her feet and renew her run to the ship. The once-Spectre leaped the gap between the solid ground of the base beneath her feet and the _Normandy's_ airlock. Two sets of arms - Miranda's and Garrus' secured Shepard as her feet thumped to the deck. Miranda slammed a fist into the control panel set into the bulkhead and the outer airlock door cycled closed, shutting out the seekers and surviving drones.

Shepard slumped to the deck, Miranda and Garrus crouched above her, concern etched on their faces. Shepard looked up at Garrus. "Goldbricking, Garrus? Really?"

The turian's mandibles quivered fractionally. "It worked didn't it?"

Joker passed his assault rifle to Miranda and slid back into the pilot's seat. "Hang on!" he called out as Garrus and Miranda aided Shepard inside the ship. "This is gonna be rough!"

"Isn't it always?" Shepard answered with a tired smile.

Miranda, Garrus and Shepard assumed wide-legged stances, bracing themselves against the bulkheads as the frigate threaded a path through the flotilla of dead ships. EDI's holographic avatar flickered into sight as she counted down the time until detonation.

"Detonation in five...four...three..."

"We get the idea, EDI," Miranda snapped. The AI fell silent and the blue orb vanished. As the mass relay bent the fabric of time and space, neatly depositing the _Normandy_ back in the Omega system, Miranda experienced a rare moment of self-doubt.

_What have I done?_

The Commander turned an admiring look on the newly-resigned Cerberus operative. "I honestly didn't expect you to turn you back on Cerberus like that."

"I...I think I suddenly saw Cerberus in a new light...the way _you_ see them. I used to believe the advancement of humanity was worth any cost, any justification but after seeing what happened to all those people..._our_ people..." Miranda trailed off, at a loss for words.

Garrus spoke up, "Now you're not so sure?"

Miranda nodded tiredly. Coming down from the adrenaline rush of the last several minutes, she felt a variety of aches both sharp and dull throughout her body. "I need some time to think, Shepard," Miranda stated and departed the bridge, barely hearing the applause from the crew.

Shepard too felt a plethora of hurts as what they'd accomplished finally set in. "Take all the time you need, Miranda," Shepard said.

"Yeah," Joker interjected, fingers dancing across control panels. "We just saved the galaxy, I think we're owed some time-out."

The helmsman looked up as Shepard placed a comradely hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for pulling us out of there, Jeff," she said softly.

"Buy me a drink and we'll call it even," he replied flippantly.

The woman once hailed as the Saviour of the Citadel laughed quietly and left Joker to his own devices. _Now the real work begins_ she told herself.

**The End**

* * *

**Thanks and Acknowledgements:** Thanks go to my unofficial beta-reader vshard for making this better than it otherwise would have been. The 'Leaf on the wind' dialogue courtesy of Joss Whedon and vshard. And finally thanks to the readers who make it all worth while.


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